Sundays At One, Part Three
by dinabar
Summary: Harry doesn't want to go back, Nikki doesn't want to live in New York... How can they both go forward and find happiness and each other? Can Elvis or Leo help them before it's too late? Final part of my back story to Season 16.
1. Chapter 1

**Welcome back, reading part one and part two will improve you're understanding of this, but not totally necessary. Tigpop did point out ages back that as I was creating the story and following along with Season 16, I could change the outcome of the Greater Love Episode, but it never crossed my mind at the time of writing it, so Leo will die in the upcoming chapters. Sorry. I hadn't anticipated that curve ball when I started what I hoped would be a light and fluffy back story for S16. I have however tried to provide some positives from the tragedy and a reason for Harry's absence. This is the final section of the story; I described Part One as a musical fairy tale, so hopefully you'll be able to stick with it through the grit to the ending that we all know is coming.**

**Thanks to everyone who has read and reviewed in the past. You are all brilliant.**

**Just to remind you we left Part Two, with Nikki having been to visit New York for a long weekend. The two of them had a fabulous time together but as Nikki left she said, 'goodbye.' Something they had promised never to do when Harry left for New York. Now Harry feels like she left him and he doesn't like it, he doesn't like it at all…**

**And if you haven't read the other parts, the music that is featured at the top of each chapter, is usually the music playing in Harry's apartment building's lift. His doorman Jorge is an Elvis impersonator and learns the songs from the lift music. Harry, has joined Jorge and his lover Beto in the Elvis act and they recently won best newcomer in the North Eastern States, Elvis competition.**

* * *

**Chapter One**

**Monday 18****th**** March**

'**There goes my reason for living,'**

Harry may have been present at the Finance Committee meeting, his name was carefully recorded in the minutes as were Candy Brown's apologies, but Harry was only present in body. His mind was preoccupied by the unnerving and rather startling realisation that he had just had. Forty years he'd had, forty years and a month and he had finally figured out exactly what he wanted from life, or more precisely who he wanted in his life and it was only seconds later that that very same woman had said goodbye to him and walked out of his life forever.

How had this happened?

This time last year when Leo was beginning to lose it and Harry in desperation had started looking for a new job he had thought he had it all figured out. He would leave London, start again, get a good job, work hard but not ridiculously Lyell Centre hard, find a woman who could love him and settle down. It was easy, it was a great plan; it was fool proof. Then Harry must have been the fool because it didn't take account of the fact that the supposed passing crush he'd always had on his colleague was not a passing crush at all and six months on it was as solid and real as it had ever been. More solid and real, and more like love than any relationship he had ever been in before.

He loved her.

He wasn't sure whether he'd been denying it up until now or he genuinely hadn't realised it. But this had to be what love was.

He loved her!

He thought back to the moment he had looked up at the airport just a few days before and seen her standing in front of him, that smile on her face. The way she had introduced herself as his sister at the Molly's, walking in the park with her, watching her face as she sat entranced as Jorge sung. And then there were the memories of later that night, the feel of her kissing him. He couldn't stray far down that road…he was in a finance meeting after all and no one found numbers THAT fascinating.

Had she meant it when she'd said goodbye?

She'd told him that they had to stop.

Did mean it?

SHIT!

She was only doing exactly what he'd done six months before, giving them a clean break to move on with their lives, but now with her calling the shots he didn't like it. He didn't like it at all. Above everything else he hated the power play between them; it was her need for control that had pushed him to leave originally.

"I'm not leaving; I'm going home," she had said to him.

He would talk to her tonight. Make it alright again. She would have looked up that song, she would have seen the words, known that he meant he was a fool and that he would always love her. She would know. She would take pity on him again. She had to know, the weight of his discovery was making his whole body burn. She would know.

She had written in his guide book all that time ago 'It's up to you.' Well if it was up to him then he had to come up with a plan for getting her back.

But was it too late? It was six months too late. He had left and finally he began to feel the hurt and betrayal that Nikki must have been experiencing all the time he had been gone. And despite it all she had spoken to him every week, listened to his woes, given him advice and looked after his mother. He didn't deserve her, she deserved better than him but there was no getting round it.

Harry had fallen in love.

* * *

**There Goes My Everything: Dallas Frazier, Elvis**


	2. Chapter 2: Can't Stop Loving You

**Chapter Two**

**Monday 18****th**** March**

'**They say that time heals a broken heart, but time has stood still since we've been apart.'**

"Hi Nikki, how was the flight?"

"Oh, Harry it's you. It was fine, thanks. The journey back was a bit eventful, but it's sorted now."

"Eventful?"

"They'd closed a section of the line, so we all ended up having to do a number of changes to get across town without using the District or Circle line."

"Sorry."

"It's not your fault."

"How's Mum?"

"She's still having dizzy spells, she's got a new prescription now, she said she'd read all the notes and if you double the dose they are prescribed for schizophrenia."

"Betahistine?"

"Yes, you're not losing as much as you think, driving that desk."

"So she wasn't putting it on?"

"I really don't know anymore, Harry. She seemed genuinely upset to have missed the trip. I don't know, you said she was a good singer in that arts group was she a good actor too?"

"Mum's good at anything she puts her mind to."

"She said she can't wait to see the photos especially of the boat trip but suspects she'll only notice that you should get a haircut."

"Sounds like Mum! You must be exhausted."

"Your Mum had driven my car back to my house and left me a food parcel for when I got in tonight. I had a really great time Harry. Thanks for everything."

"You mean MY car?" but they were both too tired for jokes. "Candy was alright then?" he asked nervously.

"Yes, she spent most of the journey shouting on her phone, she didn't say much to me at all. I'm not sure she liked me."

"I don't think she likes anyone much, not unless you've got something she wants or can get something she wants."

"I'm glad it's all working out for you Harry," she managed to get the words out smoothly despite not quite meaning them all.

"Nikki…" Harry began. But what would he say? What could he say?

"So we'll catch up on Sunday?" he asked when nothing else suitable came to mind.

"Harry." She sighed quietly. "We can't Harry. I can't. I can't keep pretending we're only friends, not after this weekend. You have a new life and it's great Harry. I'm pleased for you but I can't be part of that life. You don't need me anymore. There's hardly any post now or other details for me to sort out. I will still see your mother occasionally but not because you want me to but because I want to. It's time to stop Harry. It's time to move on."

"I do need you!" he insisted.

"No you don't," she countered.

"But I still want you in my life!" he replied.

"Harry, you moved away; now you've got to move on!" It sounded like Nikki was about to end the conversation, but Harry wasn't ready to finish it yet. When she had said goodbye to him this morning he had felt his world begin to collapse, this could be his last chance, his last reprieve and he wasn't going to let her go easily.

"Nikki? Can I ask you something?" he said quickly and seriously so she would be forced to listen and Nikki found herself holding her breath in anticipation of Harry's question.

"Before I left, I remembered something that happened. I was thinking of it today when you said you didn't push me away this weekend but before I left something happened and you did push me away. I need to know why you did it. I really need to know," he said earnestly.

"What are you talking about? When did I push you away? It's late Harry, I've been on the go all day are you sure this is the time for this conversation?"

"I need to know," he repeated.

"Go on then," she said not bothering to disguise the tiredness in her voice.

"It was back when I was staying at your house and we were investigating the Shannon Kelley case."

"Harry that was so long ago. I don't remember pushing you away when you were at my house." She paused for a while, thinking back to that brief time together. "You didn't come on to me; you were the perfect gentleman."

"Not at your house. We were at Shannon Kelley's parents' house."

Nikki remained silent. She was exhausted physically and emotionally. She'd spent a couple of hours at the airport, six hours on a plane another couple negotiating the London tube and then had to act happy and jolly on the phone to Harry's mother and now she just wanted to go to bed and Harry chose this moment to dig up the past. Where had this conversation been on any of the previous evenings?

"We climbed the stairs," he continued, "and found Shannon's body hanging at the top. It was awful Nikki, we've been to plenty of crime scenes but that one was particularly awful for a variety of reasons. You were upset and I put my hand on your shoulder and you shrugged it off. I was only trying to comfort you and you pushed me away. Why did you do it?"

"Harry I don't even remember…" she began tiredly.

"Why Nikki?"

"Why? Why Harry? Shannon Kelley! Because…because…" she sighed. "What do we do this job for? What do I do this job for?" she corrected herself and continued before Harry could offer an answer. "I do it because in some small way I make things better for people. When their lives are at their worst I make sense of the tragedy surrounding them. I search and I examine and I work and I work to give some stranger some meaning, some reason to explain the death of their loved one."

"Nikki," Harry whispered realising how inappropriate his question had been and his selfish timing. How her quest to ease the pain of others so thinly masked her need for answers to the death of her own loved ones.

"No you started this Harry, you will hear the end. I determined to save Shannon Kelley's life. She could have so easily have slipped away on the road that morning but I wouldn't give up, I didn't want death to cheat me, not when I had the chance to win for once and so I kept pounding on that girl's chest and breathing for her until the paramedics arrived and what did it achieve? What was my prize for finally cheating death? I gave that girl another week of pure hell, another week of torment, another week of pain and tragedy and not only to her. I gave her back to her parents only for them to lose her again, lose her permanently. Did you know her step-father is in a psychiatric facility now? I had done nothing but cause misery to that family and I did not deserve to be comforted when their pain was all my doing. I should never have interfered in the first place and seeing Shannon strung up like that finally at peace just cemented the fact that I was a failure."

"Nikki?" her interpretation of her actions had shocked him. Not in all his thinking about the incident had he come close to this level of self-hatred that was now spewing from his friend's mouth. "So when you pushed my hand away…"

"I told you I didn't deserve any comfort Harry. I didn't deserve to feel protected and safe when I had tortured that poor girl."

"Nikki you did not destroy that family."

"Save it Harry," a note of anger played in her voice now. "I suppose you thought it was all about you again did you?" she asked cruelly. "Not everything is always about you, you know."

"Nikki I didn't mean…"

He didn't get to finish.

"Look Harry, I'm really tired. Whatever it was about that day that bothered you, it wasn't anything that you did wrong, it was everything about what I had done wrong, don't think about it anymore. You have a new life Harry. Don't waste it."

Harry couldn't answer.

"Good night Harry, thanks for a great weekend."

"I'll always be there," he offered.

"Huh?"

"I'll be there Sundays at one. You said it was 'up to me' and it will be; I'll always be online for you. I understand you don't want to talk to me every week like we did before, that you want to move on. But I will always be there any time you want to talk or email."

"Thanks Harry."

"You should get some sleep, don't you have to go in tomorrow?"

"Mmm," Nikki replied sleepily.

"Say hi to Leo."

"Will do."

They paused with nothing more to say but no desire to hang up for what could be the last time.

"So you're a fool then?" Nikki asked.

It took Harry a moment, but then realised what Nikki was referring to.

"It's true," he replied. "All of it," he added to make sure she understood it wasn't just the line about being a fool that he meant but loving her until the day he died too."

"B…."

"Please don't!" he interrupted. "Don't say it, I can't bear it. Thanks for coming, I've had a … It's been…" Harry was at a loss to describe the weekend they had just shared. "I do love you," he said thoughtfully not the way it had crashed out of his mouth at an airport ages before.

"I know. Bye Harry."

He cringed and fell onto his bed. It still bore faint traces of her perfume. He wiped the back of his hand across his face and tugged it through his hair. He wasn't surprised to find it was wet. What a mess. Didn't she realise how many times she had saved his life? Even that morning as she pounded on Shannon Kelley's chest, it was the timing of their phone call that had saved his life during that gas explosion. She hadn't made life worse for everyone that week, not for him; never for him.

* * *

**I can't stop loving you: Don Gibson, Elvis**

**When Nikki is leaving Harry gives her the title of another Elvis track 'Now and then, there's a fool such as I,' which is what she is referring to. Read the last few chapters of part 2 or just google the lyrics if you're confused.**


	3. Chapter 3: Such A Night

**Chapter Three**

**Sunday 7****th**** April**

'**I reminisce and I'm filled with desire.'**

In the weeks that followed Nikki's visit Harry tried to move on as she suggested. To really start living his new life to cut the strings to all that tethered him to his old life. But it wasn't as easy as he thought. His original reason for moving away was so that he wouldn't be constantly reminded of what he had given up, what he had lost at every turn but now she had infiltrated his new life.

There she was in his bathroom brushing her teeth like she had in the morgue all those years before where she'd moved in uninvited and never left. There she was at his kitchen table, peering suspiciously into packets of cereal. She was the reason he had the world's largest box of tea bags in his cupboard. And it wasn't just around his apartment. The day he had taken her to Central Park, they had walked the route of his favourite run and even that now reminded him of her. The deli on the corner where he'd grab a breakfast bagel, his office, Molly's, even out with Jorge. She was everywhere.

He decided he needed a change to get out of New York for a weekend. He hired a car and drove down to Washington DC. Ruby had recommended it; there was a Cherry Blossom Parade she said he had to see. It only took five hours and he felt particularly proud of his prowess at handling the New Jersey turnpike and I 95. Washington was a real contrast to New York. There was spaciousness about it and the white faux marble buildings had such a different feel to the crowded, cluttered and rushed feel of his adopted home town. He cast a cursory glance at the marching bands parading up and down the mall. It was when a cow marched passed dressed up as Uncle Sam, including the red starred top hat he decided it was time to do something else and a visit to the Smithsonian air and space museum was a top priority.

Ruby had been right the cherry blossoms that the parade honoured were amazing and just a few steps away from the noise and ridiculousness of the crowds there was a beautiful walk passing the Jefferson Memorial and down alongside the West Potomac Basin to the reflecting pool and the Lincoln Memorial and all around were cherry trees, blooming in an even brighter white than the monuments, a few with the tiniest hint of pink. Three thousand cherry trees had been given as a gift from Japan as a symbol of friendship starting in 1912. Hawaii obviously hadn't been the beneficiary of a similar level of friendship a thirty odd years later, Harry thought. Further along he discovered a rugby tournament, he had never realised the Americans even played rugby; it was certainly never mentioned at NYU. He watched for a while, he had never been a rugby fan but he found it more soothing than the parade he had ignored, the team from the Naval Academy were really quite good.

He still went online on Sunday morning in his hotel room. It was the first road trip he'd taken without Nikki and it felt empty in a way. He had gone to get away from her but he soon realised that finding something to show her, to share with her had been one of the best parts of his trips. He remembered the landscape of Upstate New York back in the autumn, the stunning colours and the way the light had played across the valley. Nikki would have loved the cherry blossom, not the parade. The parades were all much the same he concluded but she would have appreciated the simple beauty of the trees and got a kick out of touching a piece of moon rock just as he had when he entered the Smithsonian.

He looked through the AAA book and maps that Ruby had lent him for his trip hoping that Nikki might take pity on him and go online. It had been a three weeks since he had spoken to her. Three weeks with no email, no phone call, and no Skype. He looked at his route back. He could stop off at Baltimore on his way home, that was only an hour away, but the guide book didn't have much positive to say about the town, not unless you were heavily into baseball or wanted a good aquarium. Neither of which interested Harry; he liked the final comment of the book though. All American cities and States found it necessary to have some tag line, some epithet to make its name more meaningful and Baltimore's according to the guide was Charm City. Only the violent crime, it went on to explain, in the city made any one in the know more likely to drop the first letter of the first word. Harm City; Harry decided to give it a miss.

Philadelphia was too much of a detour, and Harry didn't need to see a large cracked bell any more than he wanted to look at urban renewal in Baltimore or downtown Philly. He'd stick to Washington he decided and then drive straight back to New York.

He looked at the clock on his ipad. It was 8:30 and there was still no sign of Nikki. He decided to send her an email with a picture he'd taken of the cherry trees yesterday. She'd not replied to any of the other emails he'd sent and he didn't want to keep bothering her but he knew she would enjoy the photo. It would be like sending a postcard he surmised, that would be allowed surely?

He wrote Cherry Blossom in DC in the subject line, added the attachment and just wrote 'love from Harry' in the message. His Skype tone burbled that someone had come online and he clicked back to the correct window and hit the connect button.

"Hello Mum," he said.

"Hi Sweetheart. Were you expecting someone else?"

* * *

**Such a Night: Elvis, Mac Rebennack**

**Sorry it's a bit depressing at the beginning. It will get better...Any comments or thoughts always gladly appreciated. And a big shout out to my Charm City homies.**


	4. Chapter 4 Don't Be Cruel

**Chapter Four**

**Thursday 18****th**** April**

**Don't be Cruel**

'_You know I can be found, _

_Sitting home all alone, _

_If you can't come around, _

_At least please telephone. _

_Don't be cruel to a heart that's true'._

"Do we have to keep doing this one? I think it's sounding fine," Harry asked in a voice with an undertone of whine.

"I need to make sure it's perfect. This new gig is big deal. The move to just off Broadway is enormous Harry, this is really big." Jorge gesticulated to emphasise how big the gig was.

"It just seems that there are more important things in the world at the moment."

"Look Harry if you don't want to be here, just go." Jorge said curtly.

"No, I'm sorry; I guess the bombings in Boston have been on my mind that's all." Harry admitted.

Jorge looked at him quizzically.

"Back in my old job, it's the sort of thing I'd end up investigating. I suppose I'm feeling a bit useless," Harry admitted.

"It's tragic Harry, but you can't fix anything, you're just a teacher now." Beto insisted.

"Shall we go back to singing?" asked Jorge.

"OK, you're the boss," Harry agreed and they started the second verse.

_Baby, if I made you mad _

_For something I might have said,_

Jorge stopped singing and paused his ipod at the sight of Harry's sour face. "Are you sure there's not another reason why this song is bothering you tonight?" he asked.

"No!" Harry shot back, but far too quickly to be believed.

"So tell us about her," Jorge insisted. "We'll never get anything done otherwise."

"What's to tell?" Harry asked. But as he looked up at the two men who had become his friends he realised they were concerned, that they did care. They were his friends. Friends told each when things were worrying them. And Jorge knew exactly who it was that was causing his problem. Harry hadn't ever told him, he'd just figured it out because he knew Harry and he cared. It had been a while since that had happened. It was a slightly unnerving feeling even more so when Harry realised that he did want to talk to them about Nikki.

It was true the Brits and British men in particular weren't great at 'feelings,' but Jorge and Beto weren't British, they weren't even fully American; they were Colombian and things were obviously done differently there. He'd come to America to make a change, get out of his old self destructive life patterns. This was his chance.

"We worked together, we were friends. She wasn't interested in me and I left." It wasn't a great start to bearing his soul he thought.

"But she came out to see you for the weekend!" Jorge added.

"Is she the one who always sends you teabags?" Beto asked.

Harry looked miserable but nodded.

"And she sorted out all the details, so we could enter the competition," Beto added.

"She is gorgeous!" Jorge said.

"And she certainly looked interested to me!" Beto put in over the top of Jorge. "Not that I'm an expert you understand."

"Look are we here to sing or what?" Harry asked.

"I think we are doing as you say 'or what.'" Jorge claimed, pulled out a chair and lent towards Harry.

Harry stood up and tugged at his hair. "What do you need to know? We worked together, I adored her. I do adore her." He paused. "I think I've made the most monumental cock up of my life."

"Why did you leave?"

"I got offered a great job here." Harry insisted.

"But if you're old job was so great and she was so great, why were you even looking for new job?" Jorge asked.

"Because I'd hit the end of the road where I was, I had no chance of promotion."

Beto raised an eyebrow at Harry and pulled his chair next to Jorge's so the two were both sitting across from him. It was clear they were not interested in the job.

"I thought she wasn't interested," Harry explained. "I thought she pushed me away, she always seemed happy being friends and my track record of good relationships with women was never great… We were great friends..."

Both of his friends lent further forward.

"You never made move on her?" Jorge inquired.

Harry shook his head, "Not properly."

"I don't want to hear the details do I?" Beto said ruefully.

"But what's different now?" Jorge asked more gently.

Harry gave his chair a kick.

"When she was here, there were no cases to get in the way, no distractions, it was fun we had a great time and for once I thought there were no disasters waiting just around the bend to throw the world upside down."

"BUT?" his friends asked in unison.

"She said goodbye." Harry said morosely.

Jorge and Beto traded a look.

"Pensé que habías dicho que era inteligente." Beto said.*

"No, él es sólo un idiota." Jorge replied.

"¡Qué burro."

"Inglés" demanded Harry.

"Donkey!" chuckled Beto.

"What?" Harry asked crossly. "She said goodbye; she insisted before I left England that we would never say goodbye. We spent six months Skyping every weekend. Six months without a goodbye and after one long weekend when I finally thought we could possibly have a future together, she walks out without a backward glance, and apart from one phonecall to know she'd got home safely, I haven't heard from her since!"

Jorge and Beto rolled their eyes and looked at each other again, "Todas las semanas!"

"But you walked out on her six months ago!" Beto summarised.

"That's it! Take her side! You're supposed to be my friends!" Harry spat out, regretting telling them at all.

"Él es realmente un burro."

"Enough with the donkey jokes!" Harry pleaded. "What am I going to do?" He might regret being open with them but there was no one else who could help him. They'd have to do.

"You have to decide." Beto said seriously.

"Decide what?"

" You have to decide if you want her." Jorge continued where his lover had left off.

Harry looked from one to the other.

"You mean it's up to me!" he shook his head again remembering the words Nikki had written to him six months before.

"You've known each other a long time; right?" Beto asked.

Harry nodded.

"So why this time so different?" Jorge continued.

"Because in the one conversation we have had since she left, she told me that all the times I thought she'd pushed me away it wasn't because she wasn't interested in a relationship with me. I'd misunderstood her. She pushed me away because she didn't love herself enough to let me or anyone else love her." He looked up at his friends and back down to his hands twisting in his lap. "I know… I'm a donkey!"

"Yes, but you're my donkey," Jorge insisted slapping him on the back as Beto ruffled his hair. "And now it's time to sing. You decide later what to do. You can go forward or you can go back. It's up to you. Now let's try the chorus one more time and then we sing something else. The new venue has heard of me, it has heard really good reviews. They are expecting a big crowd the night we sing at BB King's Blues Club."

"BB King's Blues Club?" Harry asked. "The one on 42nd Street? We're singing there?"

"Yes we are!" Jorge said proudly.

"But what if someone sees us?" Harry asked again.

"That is the whole point!" laughed Jorge. "You English, you are so funny. Now; chorus!"

_Don't be cruel to a heart that's true. _

_Don't be cruel to a heart that's true. _

_I don't want no other love, _

_Baby it's just you I'm thinking of._

* * *

BB King's Blues Club Times Square W 42nd Street, between 7th and 8th.

*First of all I'm always amazed that there are people out there reading this stuff, and I know you are all clever types but I'm also even more amazed that there are people out there reading this that don't have English as a primary language so to disappear into Spanish seems particularly cruel. I don't speak Spanish either and am trusting my life to Google translate so apologies if it is wrong, but I love the way it looks and here is what I hope they say:

Beto: I thought you said he was really intelligent.

Jorge: No, he's a complete idiot.

Beto: What a donkey.

Harry: English!

And later they say "Every week?!" and "He really is a donkey,"

**Don't Be Cruel: Otis Blackwell (Elvis)**


	5. Chapter 5 Hearing Your Lies

**Chapter Five**

**Sunday 5****th**** May**

'**But I'd rather go on hearing your lies, than living without you.'**

It was 8am and Harry was wide awake. He'd tried to find a new routine for Sundays but it hadn't worked. The working week started so ridiculously early that 7:30 seemed like a lie in. He'd check the computer and go for a run, he decided. Last Sunday the park had been full of runners, there was a four mile race and a minutes silence for the victims of the Boston marathon bombings and some events leading up to the New York Marathon. It had given him a different route. It wasn't as nice; but he didn't see her at every turn.

He checked his Skype to see who was online. He wasn't changing that part of his Sunday routine. It wasn't utterly unknown for his mother to talk briefly on the computer. She preferred the phone, and he didn't have to listen to her asking him when he was getting a haircut, or where he had had his haircut when he was on the phone but this morning her icon indicated that she was offline.

Leo was online. He hadn't talked to his old boss in months. Nikki had always said he'd asked how he was on a Monday. Maybe it would be good to catch up. He clicked the icon to make the call.

"Hello? Hello? Leo is that you?"

"Yes," came a digitally blippy answer.

"Have you turned the camera on?" Harry shouted.

"No, it says the connection won't support a video call."

"Oh. Can you hear me, do you want me to call you again- try a better line?"

"No, I can hear you fine now."

Finally the digital distortion abated and the words came through clearly but not in the voice that Harry was expecting.

"Nikki?" Harry asked.

"No, it's Leo," the reply came back but in Nikki's voice.

"Working on a Sunday?" Harry asked, sure it was Nikki but eager to get her to talk again to prove his theory.

"Yes there's a lot of paper work to catch up on," Nikki replied with no attempt to disguise her voice.

"Hmm, Nikki said you were wanting to be more hands on again." He said playing along with her game.

"She's right," Nikki replied. "I've really enjoyed taking a more active role in the post mortems recently. It feels like I'm getting back to what I do best."

"You always were an excellent pathologist," Harry replied, keeping up her little charade. It had been over a month since he had spoken to her and if sitting at Leo's computer and pretending to be him on a Sunday afternoon at work was what it took for her to talk to him, he'd take it. He could just imagine her sat behind Leo's desk, the Matisse dominating the small room. "You're not playing music today." Harry commented.

"No, too much to do." Nikki replied.

"How's Nikki?" Harry asked, wondering if he was pushing her too far. There was a long pause. "Did she tell you about her weekend in New York?"

"Yes, she did Harry. She had a great time; she was full of it when she got back. She couldn't wait to tell me about the hominid skeleton the two of you went to see. Talk about a busman's holiday." Nikki rattled off quickly.

"And how is she now?" he asked cautiously.

"She doesn't tell me much, she and Jack are working much more harmoniously at the moment."

"I asked how she was?" Harry insisted.

"She seems adrift. I come in to work some days and I wonder if she'll have just moved on, there seems less and less to keep her here at the Lyell. I mean her work is still first rate but well I'm sure you know."

"I do know. I really do." Harry said quietly.

"Have you had any gigs lately?" Nikki asked.

"Yes, we have, I never had a chance to thank you personally for joining with Nikki on that birthday present."

"It was a pleasure." Nikki replied. "So another night at the Cock?"

"Oh no, we've gone upmarket, or uptown but not that Uptown that's the scary end of town. We did a gig on 42nd Street."

"THE 42nd Street?" Nikki asked hardly suppressing the un Leo like squeal to her voice.

"THE 42nd Street! We were a block or so away from Times Square. It was the most amazing location and a brilliant gig."

"It went well?"

"Fantastic. Jorge was over the moon. Beto too, but that was just because he hadn't run into any of his clients."

"And you?" Nikki asked.

"I thought it was great too."

"But?"

"It was great…"

"Harry!" Nikki probed in the most Nikki like voice ever. "What?"

"Well right at the end, we got so much applause that they raised the house lights so we could see the audience."

"So you were on stage then!"

"Oh yes, we were on stage."

"And who saw you, who was in the audience?" Nikki asked.

"Do you remember I introduced you to the Dean?"

"Me?" Nikki asked not prepared to let the game they were playing stop.

"It was someone Nikki met, gave her a lift to the airport for me."

"Candy?"

"The very same."

"Oh, Harry. What did you do?"

"I haven't done anything yet, but I got an email this morning saying I've been scheduled a meeting with her on Monday."

"Maybe she just wants to utilise all your talents at NYU," Nikki suggested.

"Somehow, I think not," Harry replied. "It might not matter anyhow. Beto has had to go back to Colombia, his mother had a mini heart attack. So there might not be any gigs for a while, or not with backing singers. Jorge will have to go back to being a solo act."

"You can't give up!" Nikki insisted.

"I might have to. Candy could turn round on Monday and veto any extra-curricular activity that can bring the good name of NYU into disrepute."

"How can singing backing vocals on a few Elvis songs be bringing the university into disrepute?"

"I don't know Nikki,"

"LEO!" she insisted.

"I don't know Leo, but the rules are strange here, it seems they own your soul.

"They're not changing you are they?"

"I don't think so. I hope not. Or not for the worse anyway."

"I ought to do some work," Nikki said.

"It's been good to talk to you. Give my love to Nikki won't you. Tell her to call me sometime."

"I'll try," she replied. But Harry didn't know if that meant she would try to call him, or try to pass on the message to Nikki in this bizarre conversation.

"I'm going to go now."

"OK Harry. Have a nice day."

Harry sat back in his chair. She hadn't said goodbye. Was that a good sign? He thought back to what Jorge and Beto had said. It was only Thursday just over a week ago that they had all been together rehearsing and laughing. Well Jorge and Beto had been laughing and now in what seemed like an instant after the amazing success of their big gig, he was being potentially silenced and Beto had flown back to Colombia. There was no knowing how long he'd be gone for. He was missing the donkey jibes already. Jorge was already depressed, the mood reflected in his elevator music choices. Maybe he should take the stairs when he went out for his run, it would be a good warm up and then he could avoid a doleful Elvis asking if he was 'Lonesome Tonight.'

* * *

**Are You Lonesome Tonight: Handman &Turk (Elvis)**


	6. Chapter 6 Lonesome Tonight

**Chapter Six**

**Monday 6****th**** May,**

'**Now the stage is bare and I'm standing there, with emptiness all around.'**

The school year was winding down, the students were sitting exams. Harry had tried to find out if the other Vice-Chairs in the department had been scheduled meetings with Candy, or whether he was just the unlucky recipient. He was sure it was more to do with his annual appraisal than his stage appearance. For once Ruby his PA had not been able to help.

"Come in Harry," Candy had called in answer to his knock.

"Take a seat," she indicated a small sofa at the side of her office and she pulled her desk chair out from behind the desk.

"Thank you," Harry said politely and sat down.

"Are you ambitious?" she asked.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean are you ambitious? What are you planning on doing next?"

"I only just started this job!"

"You've been here nearly a year, what comes next? Do you want to become part of the governing board? What is your next goal?"

Harry sat silently thinking. He did have goals, things that he wanted but sat in the Dean's office at NYU he began to realise that not many of them had to do with a career progression at the University.

"Is this so I can write something down on my annual appraisal?" Harry asked eventually.

"No, Scott Volosin does your appraisal."

"Oh," Harry said. If this meeting wasn't about his appraisal then there was only one other subject it was likely to be about.

"I take it you are aware of NYU policy and procedures as regards advertising."

"Pardon?" Harry this conversation was becoming more confusing by the minute. He looked up to see Candy cross her legs, the rather too short skirt of her suit riding up higher as she reached behind her for a folder on the desk.

"You are aware that NYU to maintain its status takes part at certain events, certain fundraisers, publicity events and scholarship recruitments throughout the year."

Harry looked up blankly, she had impossibly long nails, painted a deep purple, she couldn't possibly do her own typing. "Fundraisers?" Harry repeated.

"You see Professor Cunningham, it seems that you have a certain stage presence and we need someone to work some evenings and weekends at a variety of events across the city that all promote NYU. There are information drives about the scholarship programme for some of the public schools. A NYU families fun day and there's a benefit at the end of term, which many of the alumni attend. It is one of the biggest fundraising events of the school year. You do get what I'm saying?" She asked pointedly.

"Yes," he replied nervously. "But what has this to do with me?"

"These events," Candy continued. "The faculty have to make appearances but it's never popular, I don't want to have to tell people what they can and cannot do on their weekends. Do you understand me?"

Harry looked into her inscrutable eyes. "Are you blackmailing me?"

"That's a very emotive term, isn't it?"

Harry's heart sunk, was blackmail another of those words you weren't allowed to use? Was there an alternate word that didn't use the word black? He couldn't think of it. "Are you telling me, that this year I have to do all the public appearances at these fundraisers and that if I don't I might find that information about my recreational choices may make my stay here at NYU less than pleasant?"

"You didn't hear me say that, did you?" she asked pointedly.

"Email me over the dates," Harry said mournfully.

"I'm so glad you volunteered, I shall enjoy working with you more closely Harry."

Now it was back to Harry, he noted.

"The first is this Thursday, we'll go and give a talk to Trinity School on the Upper West Side. It's an exclusive private school, it will be a good introduction to you."

"But surely they don't need a scholarship program?"

"No, we just want the ones that don't make Ivy League Schools but whose parents are loaded."

"Oh,"

Just wait 'til we head uptown in a month or so those kids are not gonna know what's hit 'em, when you tell 'em where it's at," Candy finished using her native NY accent.

"Going back to the 'hood?" Harry asked.

"You betcha!"

Harry slunk from the room. So much for keeping out of trouble and just his eyes above water. That's what hippos did. Just their eyes. But then singing on a stage just outside Times Square wasn't really keeping your head below water. What were the chances of his boss being there?

But maybe it wouldn't be so bad. Hadn't he wanted this job in part to be an inspirational teacher? Wasn't that a good aspiration? Wasn't that a goal? Maybe this was the sort of change he needed, maybe inspiring some students about science would be the change he was looking for. Nikki had described herself as adrift yesterday, maybe he was too. Maybe this was just what he needed to give himself a focus and a goal to work for.

* * *

**Are You Lonesome Tonight: Handman and Turk, Elvis**

**Thanks so much for the reviews: HesitantHedgehog, Green Elf47, GreyLostWho, Freya 82 and Tigpop so glad you're all back and looking forward to more. Lots more to come : )**


	7. Chapter 7 March Into Hell

**Chapter Seven**

**Thursday 9****th**** May.**

'**To be willing to march into hell, for a heavenly cause,'**

"Come in," Candy called. "Ah Harry! Perfect. I'm finished here. Get my coat will you, we'll catch a cab and grab a bite first. I know a great French restaurant on the West Side; Picholine's have you heard of it?"

"Dinner?"

"The event doesn't start until eight." Candy admitted.

Harry looked at his watch. He'd been told to meet her at 6:30. He could have done so much more with the extra hour and a half. He looked up. Candy was staring at him waiting for him to hand her the coat.

"Is there a problem? I know you're English but you do eat?"

"Yeah, I eat." Harry said and handed over the jacket. He had thought that this could be his chance to carve a path for himself. Take responsibility for the scholarship programme, inspire the younger generation but he was merely a pawn in some elaborate game that Candy was playing for her own benefit. And he'd figured it out within two minutes of walking into her office. What had he got that the others hadn't he wondered? Or maybe it was just that Candy had information about him and she hadn't discovered the other's secrets yet.

She took them to an expensive looking bistro. Harry had been offered a tie at reception, the place was fussy about the dress code but fortunately he had one in his pocket just in case the event later had called for one. American's he'd discovered to his embarrassment early on were still into dressing up. The dining room was dominated by an oversized chandelier and starched white tablecloths. Harry looked at the plates of the other diners; the food was of the ultra-fancy variety and back in London he'd have probably bought a bag of chips on the way home to fill him up.

The waiter pulled out a high backed chair for each of them and as they sat atmosphere between them relaxed slightly. She laughed at one of his jokes and he felt a little more at ease. He wasn't sure if she had laughed because she found it funny, or laughed because the situation demanded it; it was so hard to tell. Nikki would have found it hilarious. They ordered quickly and the starters appeared almost instantly.

Harry couldn't help but watch Candy eat. The restaurant was smarter than any he'd been to in New York yet he couldn't get over their stab and grab style of eating, it seemed entirely unsuited to the surroundings. The fork was placed in the left hand, knife in the right and food cut, then the knife placed on the side of the plate, the fork transferred from the left to the right hand and the food stabbed or scooped on, then instead of being placed in the mouth, the hand was raised half way to the mouth and then the head dipped the rest of the way and the food snatched off it, like some predator snatching its prey and then the whole cycle repeated. Harry surreptitiously looked around; it wasn't just Candy, they were all doing it, although she seemed to have a more vicious snatch than most.

"Did you know it's considered bad manners to hold on to your knife?" Candy asked him.

Harry looked down at his hands.

"Not where I come from," he answered.

"So you're not grabbing a bit of the American dream for yourself?"

"What screwing over everyone in your path to get what you want?" Harry asked sullenly.

"I don't think that is the definition of the American dream, more that anyone can get what they want if they try."

"Bollocks," retorted Harry. "It's a dream, it's a fantasy. I don't believe in fantasy it just brings pain in the long run." He had placed his cutlery down and rubbed the scar on his head remembering the lesson he had learnt as a young boy.

"That's why you British are all so depressed," Candy countered.

"We're not all depressed," Harry said, trying to stand up for all that was British.

Candy snatched another mouthful from her fork.

"You could have fooled me." She replied her mouth still chewing on her food but her eyes boring into him.

"So why me?" Harry asked. He was after all only a pawn in this game of hers; he didn't have much to lose and at least he might find out the rules.

"Why you?"

"Yes, why me above the rest of them. Why not Volosin or Boxleitner or any of the other Vice-Chairs?"

"I may be relatively new to NYU but I know better than to take Professor Boxleitner out in public as the face of NYU. We're hoping for publicity but not THAT kind of publicity."

"Mmm, Harry agreed. Things seem to have been a lot quieter recently."

"Yes, he's in therapy. It was one of the conditions of his disciplinary action. I hear he's trying to broker a reconciliation with his wife."

"Really? After all he's done. Is that woman mad? Why would she want him back?"

"You tell me Harry, what makes a woman attracted to a man?"

Harry pulled at his collar and tie; it had suddenly started to feel constricting and uncomfortable. He couldn't remember the last time he wore a tie. The last time he was in court maybe or Nikki's father's funeral.

"What?" Candy asked aware of Harry's discomfort and pleased to be the one causing it.

"I was just thinking the last time I wore a tie was probably at a funeral."

"I told you, you Brits are always depressed. Here we are in a smart restaurant having an exclusive meal and you're thinking about funerals!"

It was true. He should make an effort. It was up to him that's what all his friends had told him. He had to decide to move forward or go back. He wasn't one for going backwards so it had to be forwards. He looked around the room again aware this time not at the eating patterns of the diners but of the looks they were giving them. Candy was a beautiful woman, he recognised the looks; the ones from the men… incredulous that this pale faced, slightly scrawny looking man, with less than cooperative hair could be sitting in such a place with a woman as attractive as Candy. He recognised the looks well; they were the same as the one's he received whenever he went anywhere with Nikki.

"What about Scott Volosin?"

"Oh, he does plenty of volunteer work already. He runs a Hungarian Saturday school, and does workshops and all sorts. He's also got four kids of his own, I have some method."

"He's Hungarian?"

"Yep, second generation but speaks the language at home, and works hard at the community centre. Why are you thinking of joining?"

"No!" Harry replied quickly.

"What have you got against Hungarians?"

"Bad memories," Harry said.

"What kind of bad memories can a small time pathologist from London have against a whole country?"

"You'd be surprised," Harry admitted. He looked down at his watch. "Shouldn't we be making a move?"

"Yes, I'll get the check,"

Harry got out his wallet.

"I'll claim this as a work expense, there's no need." Candy said nodding her head towards his wallet.

"Err thanks," said Harry suddenly even more uncomfortable than he was earlier. She still hadn't mentioned his stage performance directly. He was beginning to wonder if he hadn't been mistaken. He was beginning to wonder about a lot of things.

* * *

**The Impossible Dream: Darion & Leigh (Elvis)**

**Apologies (kind of) to our American cousins for this one, I'm sorry but the constantly changing hands with the cutlery thing is to our eyes bizarre, I have exaggerated in Candy's case but as I'm pretty sure no one out there is a Candy fan, maybe just maybe you'll forgive me… Also perhaps it is a regional style, so apologies again to New Yorkers if this isn't your native style of eating.**


	8. Chapter 8 You've Got To Have A Dream

**Chapter Eight**

**Saturday 11****th**** May**

'**You've got to have a dream, if you don't have a dream. How you gonna have a dream come true?'**

"Now you must know this one! South Pacific premiered on Broadway in April 1949." Anne said to her younger friend as they found their seats at the independent theatre.

"I remember seeing it on TV," Nikki admitted. "But it was years ago now. I'm sure I'll be surprised at how much I've forgotten."

"It was good of you to come." Anne said as they sat down.

"I really enjoyed the last one, I think I like amateur productions better than the fancy West End shows sometimes. The professional ones are so slick, so produced there's a rawness about these that just captures the emotions more."

"I always enjoyed it, when I was part of the group," Anne admitted.

"Harry said he was a pirate once."

"Did he? It must have been years ago, I don't remember that."

"I'm sure he wouldn't make it up, he said he was supposed to be working the sound desk, but someone was sick or something."

"Oh, I do remember now. It was the summer he was doing his A levels, he'd already got an offer of 2 E's back in the days when you sat entrance exams for Oxbridge places. So he had a long summer with not much to do. He did have a lovely voice as a child, but he was always a bit shy. It was the Pirates of Penzance if I remember correctly, they haven't done a Gilbert and Sullivan for a while, maybe I'll suggest it later."

Nikki wondered if Anne knew that Harry spent his spare time now singing. He'd had his own premiere just off Broadway a week or so ago. She was sure he wouldn't have told her. She didn't really know why. Anne would have been proud of her son's achievements even if it was from a rather unusual quarter. But she also knew that Harry would think that it was just another way to disappoint his mother.

"You did enjoy yourself over there didn't you?" Anne asked.

"I had a great time," Nikki replied truthfully.

"He says you don't Skype him so much anymore."

"We're still friends," Nikki admitted hastily.

"What happened dear?" Anne asked patiently.

"He's got a great life there, he's happy… he has some great new friends…"

"He hasn't got you," Anne interrupted.

Nikki didn't bother giving Anne the 'we're just friends' speech. It had barely worked the first time they'd come to the theatre together when they were only just getting to know each other. There would be no chance she would believe her now.

"He lives in New York, I live in London. He's not coming back. I…" Nikki broke off, she could feel the tears hovering ready to fall, but she couldn't fall apart in front of Harry's mother. Anne reached across the seat and gave Nikki's hand a gentle squeeze. It was such a Harry like thing to do, Nikki almost gasped.

"I'm sorry," Anne said. "I thought going out there would help."

"I think it probably did," Nikki admitted with a slight sniff. "I mean before we were talking all the time, we didn't need anyone else because we still had each other. Now we're on our own. It's make or break time. It's what Harry wanted from the start."

"You don't feel the urge to move over there then?" Anne asked pointedly.

"It's not my home, I don't want it to be my home, I belong here in London with Leo and…" she petered out. Harry had been the name on her lips. Why had he left? "I'm just helping him do what he set out to do at the start," Nikki insisted.

"But what if he's changed his mind about what he wants?" Anne asked.

"Why would he do that?" Nikki shrugged.

"He's never been good at knowing what he wants." Anne explained. "Most small boys would love a trip to the sweet shop but the huge choice just overwhelmed Harry. All those jars and bottles arrayed on the shelves, shelves upon shelves. He could see all the possibilities, all the options but with so many choices he was paralysed with fear that he would make the wrong choice and then he didn't make any choice at all and would ask the assistant for a quarter pound mixture. He would invariably end up with a pear drop and he hated those but ate them anyway. It took years before he was confident enough to make his own decision or even ask for a mixture without pear drops. I didn't take him that often; we both found the whole thing exhausting.

"Harry still likes his sweets. I was still pulling half eaten packets out of random drawers about the office months after he left."

Anne smiled.

"Don't give up," she said as the lights went down and the show started.

##

'Don't give up,' Nikki thought later that night as she tried vainly to go off to sleep. It's what Mrs Finkelstein had said to her too, but how could she keep going? Bloody Mary in the show had tried to manipulate the man in love with her daughter, telling him to have a dream; only to find his stubbornness too deep rooted and then he went off on some fool's mission and ended up getting himself killed, which was hardly a great result. Was Anne trying to manipulate them both? She wasn't sure.

Harry was sure to balk at any intervention his mother tried to engineer in his life; except he'd seemed to enjoy it when Anne had sent her to New York. Is that why she was so keen to keep in touch with Nikki? Was it a coincidence that these were the two shows that she had been invited to? Shows all about the trials of being in love, and the difficult course of true love? There was a simple explanation she was sure; when it came down to it there weren't many shows that weren't about love and she doubted the OAP's in the group would be interested in doing Starlight Express.

She thought back over what Anne had said about Harry's inability to make choices. A gnawing seed of self-doubt began to take root in her brain. What if she was the pear drop in the mixed bag that life had dealt Harry? What if she was just there because he couldn't make his own choices? She was the one thing that was always there, but the one thing he never really wanted. The one thing he just put up with because it was less stressful than making a proper decision. There was always someone else to blame when it went wrong then. She didn't want to be his pear drop. That wasn't her dream. It wasn't her dream at all.

* * *

**Happy Talk: Rodgers and Hammerstein.**

**Sung by Bloody Mary **


	9. Chapter 9 Don't

**Chapter Nine**

**Sunday 18****th**** May**

'**If you think that I don't mean, ev'ry word I'm saying, Don't, don't, don't, don't,'**

"Leo is that you?" Harry asked; the Skype ring tone having done its thing. He'd been overjoyed to see Leo online at lunch time on a Sunday afternoon. It was bizarre talking to Nikki and having to call her Leo, but it was Sunday at one and it was talking and he had so much he wanted to tell her about.

"Hello?" Harry heard a voice.

"Hi, it's Harry. Turn on your camera."

"What?"

"There's an icon, looks like a video camera," Harry shouted. He didn't know quite what it was about Skype but it did always seem necessary to shout. No wonder his mother preferred the phone.

"Leo?"

The picture appeared to reveal Leo sat at his desk at the Lyell Centre.

"Hello Harry. Were you expecting someone else?"

"No, of course not. Why would someone else be Skyping from your computer? Hello Leo, how are you?"

"I'm well thank you. How are you?"

"It's finally warming up a bit here, another month and everyone says it will be too hot to breathe again, but I like the sunshine after all the snow. How's everyone there?"

Harry saw Leo stare hard at him. He'd not imagined Skyping Leo would have felt so awkward, but maybe things had moved on in the nine months he'd been gone.

"Are you still enjoying being back in the lab more? Nikki told me about the restructuring you had to do."

"Hmm," Leo replied.

"Jack's still there?"

"Yes, he does good work, once he gets into something he's like a dog with a bone, he won't give up until he's sorted everything out. He's a lot like you that way."

"I learned it from the best," Harry said sincerely.

Leo laughed. "You were quite capable when you arrived Harry; I've never seen anyone develop as fast as you did. You could have had the job when Sam left, I still don't know why I got to be the boss and you didn't."

"Because you were the better choice Leo. I was hot headed and impulsive and rude at times, the department wouldn't have gotten anywhere with me at the wheel. You made that place Leo, you should be proud of what you've achieved. You've moved with the times, you've adjusted you've embraced new technology; you've done it all Leo. And I wouldn't be where I am now, if I hadn't learned so well from you. And not just the science, I never found that difficult it was the everything elses, calming my temper, dealing with people, holding it all together when the world is falling apart. That's what you taught me Leo, and I am grateful."

"What about you Harry?" Leo asked, slightly embarrassed by all that Harry had said. It really wasn't like the old Harry at all; he'd even picked up the odd Americanism in the way he spoke. Not that he didn't agree with what he had said, he knew it was true but it just wasn't the sort of thing you said to someone's face, it was more likely to be said about them after they'd died. It was refreshing to hear. Perhaps America was good for Harry.

"I couldn't have done it if you were still here." Leo admitted.

"What do you mean?"

"The budget for three senior pathologists, it would have become unworkable, one of us would have had to have left."

"Last in, first out fire the girl," quipped back Harry repeating something he'd said years before.

Leo gave another chuckle. "I would never have fired Nikki!"

"So what would you have done?"

"You left, I didn't have to make the decision. You made it for me."

"But what would you have done?" Harry asked curious as to how his friend and mentor would have solved this difficult problem.

"I was thinking of the Freddy Patel case."

"Freddy Patel?"

"He was the pathologist who did the post mortem on Ian Tomlinson."

"Oh yes," Harry remembered. "The newspaper man, that was killed during the G20 protests."

"He ended up getting struck off, not just for that there had been a series of problems, but I got to thinking who can investigate these problems independently? If we're all home office certified, then when things go wrong and things do go wrong, how can you investigate or get a second opinion if all the pathologists are in the Home Office's pocket?"

"Hang on," said Harry. "You were going to fire yourself, and go independent? Is that what you're saying?"

"It is."

"Blimey!"

Leo smiled.

"Who would you have left in charge?" Harry asked with a wicked grin.

"Harry!" Leo chuckled.

"It's a good idea though," Harry said. "I'm sure there would be enough cases to keep you busy, you could have done some teaching on the side, exam supervisions. It could work. You wouldn't have to take all the crap from the DI's either. So what were you going to do start your own clinic?"

"I'm not sure I'd call it a clinic…'The Dalton Clinic,' sounds a bit like an upmarket rehab centre, don't you think?"

"Maybe it does. How about just 'Daltons'?"

"That sounds like a dodgy holiday time share company, or even worse one of those holiday camp things! I didn't spend a great deal of time thinking about a name Harry, it was just an idea."

"'The Daltons?'" Harry suggested.

"It's only 8am Harry, how are you this bored already?"

"Sorry, I just thought it was a good idea." Harry chuckled.

"It is a good idea," Leo stopped and smiled at his old friend. "Dalton Pathology would have worked," he suggested.

"So you did think about it!" Harry insisted.

"Yes I did! But I didn't have to do anything because you left. Look Harry, there's something else I want to talk to you about."

"Hmm?" Harry noted Leo's serious expression. It was a stark contrast to the laughter they had just shared. "Is Nikki alright?" he asked an edge of worry to his voice.

"It's not really about Nikki."

"It's not?" Harry asked disappointedly.

"Not everything is about Nikki," Leo pointed out, but he had reasons to suspect that in Harry's world perhaps that wasn't true. "It's kind of on the same theme as before, really. The independent work. I've had someone in to the office wanting to find out exactly how their brother was killed."

"How did he die?"

"It's complicated Harry,"

"Are you taking the case?"

"Yes I've told Scott Lambert, I will go and investigate."

"Go and investigate, go where?"

"Scott Lambert and his brothers were both soldiers."

"Then is the brother's death really likely to be suspicious? Where did he die?" Harry could feel his pulse begin to race; he had a bad feeling about the conversation now. He remembered all the things about Leo that made him so cross in the past, the inability to see the big picture, the attention to detail that caught up the whole team pitting them against each other until the actual reason they were investigating became lost in a mass of theories and inquiries and personal pride. "Leo?" he asked, he could feel his voice beginning to shake.

Leo was calm and composed; his face a picture of serenity as he continued to explain the details to Harry.

"Some bones have been uncovered, during the digging of a well for a water project. They are near to the location that Scott knows his brother disappeared. He has been asking questions for years about what happened to his brother but with no body he had no chance of discovering what actually killed his brother."

"You still haven't told me where, Leo." Harry hadn't felt terror for a while. There were some streets he'd walked down in the City which afterwards he realised had been a pretty stupid thing to do. But terror like this, not since… not since… he could barely form the word Hungary in his brain.

"Leo please, tell me what's happening?"

"I'm going to Afghanistan, Harry. I'm going to perform whatever tests I can out there and repatriate the bones and answer any questions that are still outstanding."

"Afghanistan!" Harry blurted out. "This soldier got killed in Afghanistan and you're going out to find out why? Leo are you insane? There's a war on. People are killed every day. I'll tell you from here what killed this man Lambert, the Taliban killed him that's who, and the how is probably a gunshot to the head. What the hell do you think you're doing? You aren't going to make anything better by going. Is it going to bring peace to that family? He went off to war and he didn't come back. It's tragic it is, but that is what happens in war. You know that when you sign up. You go to war and you put your life at risk." Harry felt himself pulling his hands through his hair. He couldn't believe how calm his old boss was being.

"Harry," Leo began more quietly. "The others are coming too."

"Others?"

"Jack… Nikki!"

The skype broke up and wasn't able to conduct the wail and blasphemy that screeched out of Harry's mouth.

"You said this wasn't about Nikki!" Harry shouted when he'd given the Skype enough time to catch up.

"I said it's not really about Nikki; it's about what happened to a dead soldier. I thought you of all people might understand."

"Did you tell her; no?" Harry yelled, he certainly didn't understand putting people's lives at risk for the sake of a dead soldier. Not when it involved Nikki.

"I can't tell Nikki what to do!" Leo said indignantly. "It's going to be fine, we'll go, collect the bones, observe the local area, do tests, bring the bones back, it'll be quick, 48 hours max."

"Don't!" Harry blurted out. "Don't say that!" He heard himself saying exactly the same thing to her two years before. '48 hours max, in and out.' How badly had that trip turned out?

"Look Harry, the tickets are booked. It's all going to be fine. Besides after all that stuff you said earlier even if it wasn't fine you've said everything you would have written into a eulogy."

"Leo, do not joke about this stuff. Please don't. It's not funny."

"If I do die."

"Leo will you stop!" Harry shouted.

"You have the details of my solicitor don't you?"

"Yes, I have the saved on my phone, on my computer and my mother has a hard copy. But Leo don't talk like this, you said it was going to be fine."

"If I do die; don't come back for me Harry. I'll not know it won't matter to me. You've said what you've said and I'm glad I heard it. Thank you. But don't come back for me; come back for her."

"Leo!" Harry couldn't help the tears forming in his eyes, he didn't care that Leo could see. "It's madness Leo, please don't go. I'm begging you don't go."

"But Harry, this is just the sort of thing that as an independent pathologist would be perfect. A death to investigate that no one is interested in anymore. It's exactly what you said was a brilliant idea."

"Not in Afghanistan Leo, not in Afghanistan."

The two men stared at each other, the silence and fear engulfing Harry as he looked at his friend's peaceful face.

"You'll not change her mind. I did try Harry, but as soon as Jack said he'd come with me, that was that."

"They're not…" Harry broke off.

"No, they're not," Leo replied, answering the question Harry hadn't even asked.

"Be careful please," Harry begged.

"I promise I'll take care of her."

"But what about you?"

"I'll take care of me too. Remember what I said Harry. You've been a good friend to me over the years. But don't come back for me. Come back for her."

"Leo!"

"Bye Harry. It's been good talking with you."

"Bye Leo." Harry was still staring at his blank screen long after Leo's image had disappeared from it.

* * *

**Don't: Jerry Leiber/ Mark Stoller (Elvis)**

**I know I'm sorry it has to get worse before it gets better, hope it fits credibly in with what we got to see in S16. Thanks for the lovely reviews so far. Glad you're enjoying it and I know there's a lot of stuff and not action in these bits, but it does all pull together eventually. Thanks for indulging me. Indulge me some more and leave a review : ) Thanks.**


	10. Chapter 10 Cry Over You

**Forgot the disclaimer at the beginning, so all recognisable belong to the BBC. I'm just borrowing them for now. But I'm keeping Jorge, Beto, Ruby and Candy and any other U.S. characters.**

* * *

**Chapter Ten**

**Sunday 18****th**** May**

'**I'm gonna sit right down and cry over you, I'm gonna tell my mama,'**

"Hello Mum,"

"Hello darling, I wasn't expecting you to call today. How are you?"

"I'm…I'm…"

"What is it Harry."

"It's Nikki, Mum,"

"What's Nikki dear; I saw last Saturday. She seemed fine."

"Last Saturday?"

"We went to see my group's production of South Pacific."

"Oh, was it good?"

"Yes, thank you. It was very good. And would you believe no scenery fell down!"

"You must have missed it," Harry insisted.

"Now what's got you all in a bother?"

"I've just been talking to Leo."

"Leo Dalton? Your old boss?"

"Yes. He's taken on a new case, some bones have been discovered; he's going to go and find out if they belong to a missing British Service man."

"That sounds very noble of him; the family will be pleased if they finally get some closure over their tragic loss."

"No Mum, you don't get it. The bones. They're in Afghanistan!"

"Oh, that is a bit of a trip! But what's this got to do with Nikki?"

"She's going with him!" Harry cried.

"But isn't that her job, darling?"

"No, it is not her job. Her job is to do post mortems at the Lyell Centre and investigate crime scenes in and around Central London not bloody Afghanistan!"

"Alright Harry, calm down. Maybe she wants to go?"

"Who WANTS to go to Afghanistan?"

"Leo Dalton obviously does, he wouldn't have forced her to go would he? He's not that kind of a boss."

"No he wouldn't have forced her to go; she would have volunteered, off on one of her crusades to change the whole world. Do you know how much trouble she can get herself into when she stays at home?"

"Harry; she went to Budapest when you were in trouble."

Harry blew his breath through his teeth, paused and then said quietly,

"I know, Mum. I know. But Leo's not in trouble. Not yet. If he just stayed in London then there would be no trouble at all."

"But that family will never know what happened to their son!"

"Mum, how many hundreds of families do you suppose really knows what killed their children when they send them off to war? What's one more mystery?"

"It's one that Leo obviously thinks he can solve or he wouldn't be going. What exactly is the problem Harry?" Anne asked pointedly.

'What is the problem?' his brain screamed as if the answer was the most obvious thing in the world.

"She could get herself killed! I don't want her to go. I don't want any of them to go."

"And why not?" probed Anne.

"Because I don't want them to get hurt, I don't want them to be in danger. Because I don't want to lose them Mum, I can't lose them, I can't lose her."

"You moved away Harry, you moved on. I thought you wanted Nikki to move on. She is moving on Harry, you have not made it easy for her but she is trying and maybe she needs to make her own decisions and her own choices even if they seem a little crazy."

"Going to Afghanistan is more than a little crazy! It's suicidal!" Harry pulled up short. He really hadn't meant to say that to his mother.

"Sorry Mum,"

"It's alright darling. It does seem a bit extreme. Why are you telling me all this?"

"Could you talk to her? Try and get her to change her mind?"

"If you feel that strongly, shouldn't you be calling her?"

"I will Mum, I will, but if you could as well. Sometimes she can be stubborn Mum, and whenever I try to tell her not to do something it makes her even more determined to do it but maybe you can talk some sense into her."

"Harry, she is a grown woman who is capable of making her own decisions. I'm sure she thought carefully about this before saying yes. I can't change her mind if it's already made up can I?"

"Well please just tell her to be careful. Please." Harry begged.

"Alright darling. I'll talk to her. But you'll have to prepare yourself for the fact that she will go."

"I know she will Mum, I know but I'm just so scared."

"She's always been ok before hasn't she?"

"Yes…but…but…but this time I won't be there to keep an eye on her will I?"

"You said there were other's going."

"Hmm, Jack the forensics expert."

"So she's not going to be on her own, they'll be assigned protection. You need to calm down Harry or you'll make yourself ill."

"Alright Mum. Sorry. It was just a bit of a shock."

"I'll talk to her sweetheart and I'll send you an email and tell you how it goes. Is that ok?"

"Thanks Mum."

* * *

**I'm Gonna Sit Right Down: Thomas & Biggs (Elvis)**


	11. Chapter 11 Have I Told You Lately

**Chapter 11**

**Monday 19****th**** May**

'_**My heart would break in two if I should lose you**_

_**I'm no good without you anyhow**_

_**And have I told you lately that I love you**_

_**Well darling I'm telling you now.'**_

**Voicemail 1: 2.30 EST**

"Hi Nikki, I know you said we had to stop, but I need to talk to you. I really need to talk to you before you go. I know where you're going. I've talked to Leo. I'm not going to try and stop you; you make your own decisions, but please. I want to talk to you before you go. Thanks, Harry"

**Voicemail: 2.46 EST**

"Hi Nikki, hope you got my last message, glad you had a good time with Mum last week, she claims no scenery fell down, I need corroborating evidence. Please call me."

**Voicemail 3: 3.02 EST**

"Hi Nikki, I know you probably think we'll just end up fighting if you call me and that would be an even worse way to leave things. I understand I do, but I don't want to fight with you. I don't want you to go, but I respect your decision to go with Leo and Jack. Jack I'm sure could hold his own but I need you to have Leo's back. He'd go wandering off into a minefield if you didn't keep an eye on him. But I'm worried Nikki. I'm really worried and it would be good to talk to you."

**Voicemail 4: 3.25 EST**

"Look now, I'm just filling up your voicemail, I can't believe there's still room, unless you are deleting all these messages without listening to them. Please call me Nikki. It's one thing knowing you're 3000 miles away in London, but totally different when you're in Afghanistan. You shouldn't be on your own. I should be with you. I should be with you making a difference to the world not artificially manufacturing grades and stuffing heads full of facts that are forgotten the minute the paper is written or the exam completed. I'm sorry Nikki. I'm sorry I've let you down."

**Voicemail 5: 4.10 EST**

"Are you sure Leo is ok? He's not having another breakdown is he? That's not what's sent him off on this crackpot mission is it? You wouldn't go with him if you thought he was crazy would you? He seemed ok when I talked to him. We had a really good chat actually. I forgot how much I admire him. I told him too, he went quite pink. Call me Nikki. Please."

**Voicemail 6 4.58 EST**

"OK, I'm getting the message. You're not going to call me. I hope you listen when my mother calls, although I'm not entirely sure what she's going to say. Nikki please think carefully about going, if you're going because of personal pride, or because the boys are going or any other ridiculous stupid equality reason please don't go. Please only go if you think your being there will make a difference to this case. And please be careful. No crusades please, keep your head down and don't cause a fuss. Please Nikki. Do it for me?"

**Text Message 5:01 EST**

Left u voicemail. Ur not replying. Don't know what 2 say. I'm terrified. I love you.

**Phone Call: 5:05 EST**

"Harry?"

"Nikki? Is that you? Thank you for ringing."

"I'm going to be fine Harry."

"Nikki…"

"Harry, it will be ok. Thanks for the messages. I'll call you when we get back."

"Thanks Nikki."

"Try not to worry."

"I'll try. Try not to get into trouble"

"I'll try too."

"Nikki…" Harry began again, but after all his words of earlier now with her on the phone he had nothing left to say.

"Please be careful."

"I promise," Nikki replied dutifully.

"I'll talk to you soon then," Harry said.

"Soon," she replied.

"I do love you," Harry insisted.

"I know you do Harry, but this is something I need to do."

There was silence for a while.

"Harry?"

"Yes?"

"Did you ever learn to like pear drops?"

"Pear drops?"

"Yes pear drops."

"No, not sure why; never liked them as a child, still don't."

"So you never liked them."

"No."

"You never even got used to them after a while and got to like them?"

"No! Why are you asking me about pear drops?"

"Oh it's nothing, just something I was thinking about. Don't worry about it. I'll call you as soon as we're all back."

"Has my mother been talking to you?"

"No."

"Oh," there was another silence before Harry continued. "Thanks Nikki; thank you for calling tonight. I really appreciate it."

"It's ok, Harry. I liked talking to you."

"Me too."

"Talk to you soon then."

"Soon."

Harry quickly disconnected. He was pretty sure Nikki wasn't going to say goodbye but he wasn't going to stick around to hear it if she did.

* * *

**Have I Told You Lately That I Love You? Weisman (Elvis)**


	12. Chapter 12 Broken Hearted Lovers

**Had a request last time Jorge popped up for a reminder on the pronunciation of his name. He is 'Hor/hay,' and his friend is 'Bay/to'. And I have to confess to the fact that the more Beto called Harry 'donkey' as I wrote this, the more I could hear the donkey jibes in a Shrek accent despite Beto speaking Spanish most of the time. But you kind of have to go for exasperated affection and you'll be close or just bizarrely imagine Shrek as I do…. "Donkey!"**

* * *

**Chapter Twelve**

**Wednesday 22****nd**** May**

'_**You still can find some room, For broken hearted lovers, To crowd their little room.'**_

"If you're just going to mope about the place you can go home now!" Jorge demanded.

"Well, you're not helping it with the mournful lift music," Harry retorted.

"And how do you know? You've been taking the stairs!" Harry raised an eyebrow and Jorge gestured to his legs. "I can tell by your beautifully toned calf muscles!"

Harry looked down at his trouser covered legs.

"Mrs Finkelstein told me!" Jorge admitted. "I thought I might try some of the gospel numbers next."

"Anything but Heartbreak Hotel, please!"

"Alright then, so why are you moping?"

"I'm not moping, I'm worried." Harry explained.

"Which of your loves is it?"

"Pardon?" Harry asked.

"Alright. Which of your women is it?"

"What do you mean which of them, how many do you think I have?"

"You've got a least three…"

"Three?"

"Of course three, you love your mother, you're in love with Nikki and you love to hate your boss."

Harry opened his mouth, ready to challenge Jorge's theories, but he had no words with which to challenge Jorge's truths.

"Which one is it then? That boss of yours, yanking your chain again? I can't believe you let her. She's not that good looking."

"What are all these?" Harry asked gesturing to a pile of envelopes stacked neatly on a set of drawers and studiously ignoring Jorge's questions.

"Oh, it's Beto's mail." Jorge said dismissively. "Beer?"

"Thanks! This one's from Sullivan and Cromwell, aren't they a law firm? Beto's not in trouble is he?"

"Beto? No."

"Then what are they?"

Harry shuffled through the pile, he didn't recognise the names of all of them, but they all sounded like law firms.

"They're job offers," Jorge said nonchalantly, he gets one every week. They all say the same thing, big money, nice office, he's never interested."

"Job offers?" Harry asked incredulously.

"He's a lawyer; didn't you know?"

"No," Harry replied, shocked that he'd known the man for so long, and obviously in all that time the fact he was a lawyer had never even come up.

"What did you think he was? A personal trainer?"

Harry thought, actually a personal trainer was exactly what Beto looked like. "I just never knew." Harry admitted. "Why does he have so many job offers?"

"Because he's good!" Jorge laughed. "But he won't go and work for them, he works for a little independent firm in mid-town and does pro-bono work for immigration cases and miscarriages of justice that kind of thing."

Harry's brain churned, all this time he had known a lawyer, he'd known an immigration lawyer and he hadn't even realised. "So he could be earning mega-bucks and he's out championing the cause of the poor and the weak?"

"You could put it like that." Jorge said and flicked on the TV.

"But why?"

"What you think being rich is everything there is in life? Beto doesn't need the money, his family has plenty. His mother sent him to America to stay with an aunt of hers years ago. He was only a teenager but his mother was determined to keep him out of the family business after his father was killed. He worked hard and got to law school and now he uses his talents to help others, it was one way he could show he was different from the others."

"Hunh?" Harry asked.

"The others, Beto's family are from Colombia too," Jorge spoke very slowly enunciating the English clearly. "They had a family business, they are very rich." He paused; he could see the confusion on Harry's face. "There are not many ways to get rich in Colombia." Harry stared at Jorge over the top of his beer and raised an eyebrow.

Jorge nodded, his friend had finally understood.

"The only time he did make any money, the IRS investigated him in case he was money laundering for the operation back home but as far as I'm aware, they changed business. He never even opens most of those envelopes. I'm not sure why I'm even keeping them."

"When's he coming back?"

"I don't know, his mother had some complications in hospital, picked up an infection, she's still very weak. He wants to be there."

Harry looked at the stack of envelopes on the side and wondered if Nikki had a similar stack but all addressed to him. She'd be gone in a couple of days.

"What's with long face?" Jorge said, aware of the change in Harry.

"It's Nikki," Harry admitted.

"Did you ever decide what you were going to do?"

"I did."

"And…"

"She's going out to Afghanistan to do a job."

"She's going where?" Jorge asked, suddenly interested in the conversation. "Our Nikki? Is going to Afghanistan!"

Harry nodded.

"What on earth for?"

"Her boss, my old boss, is doing someone a favour; she's going out to help him."

"That's some favour."

"Tell me about it."

"So you're worried she won't come back."

"Of course I'm worried she won't come back, she's got a knack for finding trouble in her own backyard and she's going to Afghanistan, she'll be lucky to avoid it. I did decide what I was going to do and now I've finally made the decision she goes flying off on some hair brained mission that she may never come back from!"

"You'll just have to trust her." Jorge said and then added "Spanish with English subtitles or English with Spanish subtitles?"

"What is it?" Harry asked. He'd really got out of the habit of watching TV.

"X files box set, I started when Beto left, it's about the only show we don't agree on. I'm over half way through series 7."

"Which way do you usually play them?" Harry said glad in an odd way to hear that his best friends still had their own disagreements within what seemed to be the most happy and functional relationship Harry had ever witnessed.

"English with Spanish subtitles. Mulder doesn't sound so hot in Spanish."

"That I find hard to believe," Harry said and smiled for the first time since he'd spoken to Leo. "Nikki used to like that show."

"She has impeccable taste," Jorge stated. "Now, drink your beer, watch TV. Have a normal life. She's going to be fine." He said as he passed Harry a second beer and pressed play.

A woman was speaking, Harry assumed it was Scully:

_"Time passes in moments... moments which, rushing past, define the path of a life, just as surely as they lead towards its end. How rarely do we stop to examine that path, to see the reasons why all things happen, to consider whether the path we take in life is our own making, or simply one into which we drift with eyes closed. But what if we could stop, pause to take stock of each precious moment before it passes? Might we then see the endless forks in the road that have shaped a life? And, seeing those choices, choose another path?"_

Another path thought Harry.

The beer probably helped but he didn't hate the show, he quite enjoyed it actually all until the last moment when his thoughts were caught back to his own life and not the preposterous fake TV life he had just been immersed in.

_"What if there was only one choice and all the other ones were wrong? And there were signs along the way to pay attention to," Scully had asked.  
"Mmm. And all the... choices would then lead to this very moment. One wrong turn, and... we wouldn't be sitting here together." Mulder replied._

Harry looked across at the sofa where his friend was avidly drinking up every last second of the episode, every move as Mulder carefully pulled a blanket over his sleeping friend and stroked her cheek.

One wrong turn? One!

'Please God, keep her safe,' he prayed.

"You up for another?" Jorge asked. "The next one is all about the evil of big corporations."

"I think I'll pass." Harry said. "Thanks for putting up with me tonight."

"Always a pleasure," Jorge said. "Any time my English friend."

"Thanks."

* * *

**All Things Series 7 Ep17 X files; 20 century Fox**

**Gotta love some Mulder and Scully and as I recall this ep was written by Gillian Anderson.**

**Heartbreak Hotel: Axton (Elvis)**


	13. Chapter 13 What You Never Had

**I should really be reading my book club book but now Elvis is haunting me… Yesterday there he was playing in the background of the funfair on a seaside day out; 'That's hound dog," said my five year old confidently. (What am I doing to those poor children?) And today in a story I was reading to him the hero confuses the villains by picking up and wearing a stray Elvis face mask, so thought I'd better update quick. Thanks to everyone reading, watch out for chapter fourteen; it's a tissue alert.**

* * *

**Chapter 13**

**Thursday 23****rd**** May**

'_**I know I should be glad, why does it hurt so bad, how can you lose what you never had?'**_

"This one might be a bit different to Trinity School," Candy said as they climbed out of the cab.

"Is this really your old school?" Harry asked.

"No, but it could have been. My school was here. They've shut my school turned it into 5 smaller schools all on the same site. The police still have a strong presence outside at the end of the day but it's not quite the warzone that it was."

Harry shivered despite the warmth of the evening. How could going into a high school be compared to a warzone? This one was only ten blocks from the exclusive one the fortnight before. But the bright colours painted in the hallway did not disguise the stark contrast between this school and the private one. Instead of a cosy couch outside the headmaster's office, there were a number of metal chairs all Harry noted bolted securely to the floor. The corridors were all patrolled by security guards and the metal detector and scanner on the way in had seemed even more intrusive than the one at Heathrow. Harry looked round at the unfriendly and suspicious faces. This was not a place to inspire the young to love science; this was a place to inspire a child to do whatever it took to get out.

"How do you do it?" Harry asked Candy.

"Do what?"

"Get out of here alive?" Harry replied.

"You want me to do the talking?" she asked.

Harry nodded and shifted uneasily in his seat. He was literally ten blocks away from the last school, with the young people that smiled and held the door open for him. Frank McCourt High School might have had a lot of money thrown at it, but the fact remained that most of these students were still reading at a 3rd grade level. The neighbourhood didn't even seem that bad.

"Why are we here?" Harry asked as he settled into a seat at the front of a tutorial room. The fifteen or so students in the room looked like they were only there because they had to be there. It could have been the detention class for all he knew.

"Because one day there will be someone that needs us." Candy explained

"That one just looks like she'd need to access our free childcare for student's facility by next semester."

"Don't knock it Harry, she may be doing the best she can. Maybe she is the one we can help?"

"They need something more than us," Harry said nervously. He was usually aggravated by Candy's presence but tonight he couldn't be more glad that she was the one sat at the desk next to him. He needed her tonight; he was way out of his depth. Even so he couldn't help his thoughts being drawn to another warzone and the hope that his friends would also have someone with them who knew the system, would do the talking for them and knew how to get them out alive.

They shared a cab across town, after the seminar. It wasn't really in Harry's direction but he knew the subway from there and after all he had seen that evening, sharing a cab seemed the safest of all the options.

"Would you like to come up for coffee?" Candy asked as she paid the fare.

"I…err…I,"

"It's ok Harry, you don't have to be shy!" Candy insisted.

Harry looked at his watch and transferred his weight from one foot to the other.

"Look Candy, I've got a lot on my mind at the moment, it wouldn't be fair on you. I won't be good company, do you mind if I take a rain check?" There weren't many Americanisms that Harry enjoyed or used, but that was one that had got him out of trouble more than once. He looked up at his boss; she was obviously not used to being turned down.

"Suit yourself," she said and turned with a flounce to climb the steps to her building.

"Shit!" muttered Harry under his breath. He may have made it safely out of one warzone, but he had the uncomfortable feeling he had just walked straight into another.

* * *

**How Can You Lose What You Never Had? Weisman & Wayne (Elvis)**


	14. Chapter 14 Tonight I Need A Friend

**Chapter 14**

**Wednesday 29****th**** May**

'_**Yesterday is dead and gone, And tomorrow's out of sight**_

_**And it's sad to be alone, Help me make it through the night**_

_**I don't care what's right or wrong, I won't try to understand**_

_**Let the devil take tomorrow, 'Cause tonight I need a friend.'**_

"Harry?"

"Nikki is that you?"

"Harry," she stuttered, the word a sweet release after the long silence.

"Where are you Nikki? Are you safe? Are you home? Nikki are you crying?"

"Ha…Ha…Harry." she wailed.

There was obviously something terribly wrong, Harry knew it, he could feel it, but the fact that Nikki was still somewhere she could call him, even if she wasn't in a position to actually talk to him meant that the most terrible scenario he had imagined hadn't happened.

"Ok, Nikki, I'm going to take this really gently and you just sniff or do whatever you can. I'll ask the questions and if you can, you let me know. Alright?"

"Ha…Ha…Ha…rry!" she choked

"Are you in England?"

"Hmm."

"Is that yes?"

"Yes. Oh Harry…"

"You're ok?"

"Yes… NOOOO!"

"Is it Leo?"

"Harry!"

"Nikki? What happened. Is he hurt?"

She didn't reply but her sobs got louder.

"He's not coming back is he?"

"NO!" she cried. "Oh Harry? What am I going to do?"

Harry felt angry and sick and desperate all at once. Why was he so far away?

"What happened Nikki?" he asked the words burning his throat.

"He looked at me. He knew. He knew. He did it for us but he was so calm. He's gone Harry. He's gone and I can't say goodbye. I can't say goodbye and for once I really want to."

"Nikki, I don't understand. Talk to me." Harry begged.

"Harry we should never have gone. What were we thinking? We shouldn't have been there."

"Leo, Nikki. What happened to Leo?" For once the 'I told you so,' never even entered Harry's head.

"The water project opened. There was so much opposition; everyone was fighting against each other."

"Nikki…. LEO!"

"Suicide bomber!" The choking breaths started again after her short bursts of clarity. "Would all be dead…Leo knew…led him away from us…kept him away…. Harry…"

Harry had nothing to say.

"I sat on a plane with a body bag Harry. But there was no body. There was…there was just… there was…"

"Shh, Nikki. I know."

"How can I say goodbye?"

"Nikki."

"I can't do this, I can't."

"You can Nikki, you can do this. Nikki he's gone, he went in that instant. You said he saw you. You said he looked calm. You said he knew what was about to happen Nikki and he died saving you and all the others. He died looking at you and he would have seen you. He would have seen how much you love him. He knew how much you loved him. How we all loved him. You did say goodbye, we used to talk all the time Nikki without saying a word, didn't we? You always knew what I was saying when I didn't say anything at all. Leo was the same. He knew Nikki. He knew what you were saying in that instant. You have to believe me, he knew, I know he knew how much you loved him. I know it doesn't feel good enough for you, but he would have known."

Nikki's sobs just got louder.

"Even if there was a body Nikki, it wouldn't be Leo. You and I know that better than anyone, they aren't the people any more. They're not the ones we love. They might look a bit like them but they're already gone.

He heard some more sniffs, but nothing more.

"Are you on your own?"

"I'm… I'm… in a taxi…on my way home."

"Don't go home Nikki. Go to a friend's; go to my Mum's. Don't be on your own Nikki. Please. I'll call Mum or whoever, I'll let her know you're coming."

"Thanks Harry."

"Tell the driver now," Harry ordered.

He heard Nikki give the driver his mother's address.

"Thanks Nikki, I'll talk to Mum. I'm so sorry Nikki. I am really sorry. I'll talk to Mum and call you straight back. OK?"

"Harry," she mumbled.

"I'll call you back." Harry insisted. Before he even had a moment to think he called his mother and warned her of Nikki's arrival and the circumstances or the little he knew and then called Nikki again. They hardly spoke, Harry repeating how sorry he was, Nikki giving occasional updates as to their location in between sobs. Harry didn't feel the need to clutter the silence with platitudes. How could he tell her that everything would work out? That it would be ok, that she would get through this. None of them were true, and they only half worked when he had her head tucked under his chin and her body held tightly against his. So instead he apologised over and over again until he was unsure of what he was apologising for and said her name and told her how brave she was. She disconnected at his mother's house to pay the taxi driver. But she hadn't said goodbye. She hadn't really said much at all.

Harry put the phone back on the table and went to stand up. Suddenly he felt his legs give way. He grabbed hold of the bed as he fell, buried his face in the duvet and wept but whether from relief or pain he didn't know and he didn't care.

* * *

**Help Me Make It Through The Night: Kristofferson (Elvis)**


	15. Chapter 15 Someone To Lean On

**Chapter Fifteen**

**Thursday 30****th**** May**

'**I need somebody to tell my troubles to, No use denying, I'm close to cryin'**

**But what good, tell me what good would my crying do?'**

"Professor Cunningham, are you there? Pick up please it's Ruby."

Harry woke with a jolt when he heard the answer machine start. For a moment he wasn't entirely sure where he was, his head hurt furiously and his back was stiff. He'd been asleep half on half off his bed and he was still in his clothes. He heard the phone begin to ring again.

"I managed to reschedule your morning class, Harry but Professor Volosin did notice and I know he has a committee meeting with the Dean at lunch, you need to call in if you're not well. Call me back. It's Ruby."

Harry struggled to his feet and looked around his room trying to make sense of the evening before and why he had got so hammered on a Wednesday night. He could see the empty bottle on the nightstand next to the phone.

He sat down heavily on the bed and buried his face in his hands.

Leo.

It didn't seem real. He couldn't believe it. He knew now why Nikki had taken the first flight to Budapest that time. It just couldn't be true. The temptation to sling his belongings in a back pack and head for the airport was almost overwhelming, but there were a few more weeks of term left and a number of events including graduation that attendance was mandatory at.

Gradually more of the evening came back to him. His mother had called him back after Nikki had gone to bed.

"That was a good idea of yours; making her come here," she had said.

"Oh Mum, I'm sorry to put you out. I just didn't know what to do. It didn't seem right for her to be on her own."

"You were right Harry, it's fine. I've got quite fond of her myself. I wouldn't want her to be on her own through this. But Harry, I think there's a lot more that went on out there than she is able to talk about. She looks haunted almost."

Harry's stomach lurched in an old and once familiar way. "Try and help her rest Mum, she'll need to sleep." He'd seen it before, seen Nikki struggle and almost lose the battle to keep her head above water. Not that he'd been much help that time, but he was there when it really mattered. Her words 'You're the best,' fluttered through his consciousness, she always had been an appalling judge of men and he was no exception to her trail of losers and sorry bastards.

"Listen Harry, I need to go," he heard his mother say. Despite a transatlantic connection and Nikki being in a different room Harry could quite plainly hear Nikki screaming, "No!" presumably in her sleep.

"I'm sorry Mum,"

"I'm sorry too darling, I'll do what I can. But who will look after you?"

"Don't worry about me Mum, I'll be ok. Just do what you can with Nikki. Thanks Mum. Bye."

"I ought to go Harry. Bye."

He picked up the phone to call Ruby.

"Hi Ruby, sorry to worry you."

"Harry. Where have you been? Everything's kicking off round here and you might think people don't notice you sitting in that back corner, but I tell you they notice when you're not there."

"Aren't we allowed personal days?" Harry asked.

"Only if they're prearranged and cleared by the department."

"Oh," Harry replied. "In that case I'm sick."

"Harry, you have to call in, you know how it goes three no show no calls and your job is in danger!"

"That's not true of the professors though…that's for…for…" he broke off.

"No Harry, that might be how your class system works in England, but here a no call no show goes on your record."

"But I did call, I called you."

"It doesn't count! You have to call your supervisor."

There was silence for a while until Ruby asked more gently. "Has something happened?"

"A good friend of mine has been killed, an old colleague." Harry said simply. He'd dealt with death professionally every day of his adult life, he'd experienced the death of his father personally as a young boy; it wouldn't be unreasonable to assume after thirty years that he had come to grips with the topic but he was as much at sea as a cabin boy.

He heard Ruby gasp. "Not the lovely girl that came here once?"

"No not Nikki, but she was there when it happened. They were working in Afghanistan. It was my old boss. He was killed by a suicide bomber. He… he… he was leading the bomber away from a group of people, away from Nikki when the bomb was detonated remotely."

"Oh Harry, I can see why you haven't come in. Do you have to go back for the funeral?"

"The funeral?" Harry exclaimed. He'd not even considered the funeral. She'd have to give a eulogy. She'd have to organise it all. No! He would have to organise it all. He was one of Leo's executors; he'd have to sort out the will, the house. What was he going to do?

"Harry! Listen up now! You put this phone down to me, then you call Professor Volosin and tell him why you're not in. Tell him a family friend died. Don't just say it was your old boss, because you will never be approved the time off to go back. Are you listening? Tell him you'll be in tomorrow. Then go out for a run, get yourself in the shower have some food and get yourself together. If you fall apart now, you will never have enough personal days to make it over and back for the funeral. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Ruby. Thanks."

Harry looked out of his window, he could see the roofs of the other apartment buildings on the block, the sky was clear; the sun was making patterns on his window sill. He sat and stared out of the window until he looked down at his watch and realised another hour had passed. And then another…

###

Harry was startled by a hammering on his door. He thought carefully back over the afternoon. Much of it he couldn't account for, but he had called his boss, hadn't he? He was sure he'd told someone. Or was that Jorge he'd called?

"Harry! Are you in there? Open up!"

"Beto?" Harry called through the door and squatted slightly to see through the spy hole. He opened the door. Beto stepped into the apartment and shook Harry's hand then pulled him into a warm embrace, kissing him on both cheeks.

"I just got back!" Beto announced. "It's so good to see you!"

"Welcome back," said Harry with as much jollity as he could muster.

"What the hell happened here?" Beto asked looking round at the trashed surroundings. "Who died?" At that moment Beto's mobile rang.

"¡aló!"

"lo que quiero decir, tener cuidado con él?"

"¿Qué hay chistes burro?"

"¿Quieres decir que alguien ha muerto realmente? "

Harry watched as Beto turned to face him during the last question, the smile fading from his face.

"Jorge?" Harry asked. Beto nodded and tipped his head towards his mobile.

"He just told me, I'm sorry Harry. I didn't mean…"

"It's ok Beto," Harry said and tapped him lightly on the upper arm. "You didn't know." He looked around his messy apartment. "It could do with a bit of tidying."

Beto set to work, collecting a glass and empty bottle and returning it to the kitchen. Harry watched as his friend began to straighten up his apartment for him.

"You never told me you were a lawyer."

"You never asked," Beto replied tucking a desk chair back under the oversized desk.

"How's your mother?" Harry remembered to ask, despite the fog in his brain.

"She's on the mend now, has a fistful of tablets everyday but she's doing well. It was good to see her."

"Beto?" Harry asked scratching his head. "Is it true that any job here is subject to the no call, no show disciplinary ruling?"

"Huh?"

"I didn't go to work today."

"But you called in?"

"I can't remember," Harry said honestly. He knew he'd meant to but thinking back now he didn't actually remember speaking to Scott Volosin.

"You've not done it before though have you? Once just goes on the record." The serious look on Beto's face was one that Harry had never seen before, his professional face.

"No," Harry admitted, but I don't know how I'm going to make it back for the funeral. It will take a minimum of two work days to get there and back, maybe longer. I'll only be allowed one day's leave."

"They might give it to you on compassionate grounds…" Beto suggested. "Are you on good terms with your supervisor?"

Harry shifted uneasily.

"What have you done?" Beto questioned, stepping into Harry's personal space.

"She invited me back for coffee the other night, I turned her down. She didn't take it well."

"She can't really use that against you."

"You've not met her!" Harry insisted.

"I would have thought your first year at NYU you would be on a one year contract anyway? They don't usually give out tenure straight way. Are you on a one year contract?"

Harry stared at Beto.

"You do know what contract you signed don't you?"

Harry fumbled through the desk drawer and pulled out some papers. "I was told it was just a formality, that it would be renewed…"

He looked up into his friends eyes.

"Lo sé, soy un burro!" Harry said.

Beto laughed and put his arm around Harry's shoulder and with the other smoothed down his hair.

"That is very true mon amigo, but your Spanish is really improving!" Beto chuckled to himself. "Come on you donkey; Jorge should have finished by now, let's go and get a drink."

Harry turned his head to look into Beto's face.

"Don't worry. We'll just have one. You need to get out of this place for a while. You can tell us both what happened."

"Thanks," Harry said gratefully.

* * *

**I Need Someone To Lean On: Pomus & Shuman (Elvis)**

*Beto: hello

What do you mean go gentle on him?

You mean no donkey jokes?

You're telling me somebody actually died!

Harry: I know, I AM a donkey.


	16. Chapter 16 Nowhere Left To Go

**For all my lovely reviewers and for all the people I made cry last time, sorry. I'm not promising not to do it again though… THANKS**

* * *

**Chapter Sixteen**

**Thursday 30****th**** May**

'_**You will never understand how it feels to live your life**_

_**With no meaning or control and with nowhere left to go,'**_

It was a bar Harry hadn't been into before, but it wasn't as if he was really paying attention to the surroundings, he couldn't stop long. He knew just as Beto did that he really needed to be out of his apartment for a while but he felt bad, this was Beto's first night back in the City, he shouldn't gate crash his friends' reunion. Besides it was a Thursday night and he HAD to go to work tomorrow.

One drink that was all; one drink. Jorge pulled out a chair from a small round table and plonked Harry into it and then went to order the drinks. Harry watched his two friends at the bar together. It all seemed so easy for them despite their long separation, despite all their differences, they worked as a couple. They were IN love. And yet they'd let him tag along tonight as if it were the most natural thing in the world. It had been a while since he'd had friends take care of him like this.

"Leo!" Harry sighed and began picking at a beer mat.

"Try that," Beto said putting a bottle of Sam Adam's in his hand.

"Thanks," Harry replied.

They sat quietly for a while; it was one of the few bars Harry had visited that didn't have a different sport showing on a massive screen in every corner, or an overwhelming sound system, so the quietness was a novelty. Molly's didn't show all the sport but Jorge and Beto refused to go there with him. There was a song playing quietly he recognised, a distinctive 80's beat but he couldn't make out the words.

"How many people do you think the average person watches die?" Harry asked taking another pull on his beer.

"Pardon?" Beto put down his bottle and stared at Harry. "You weren't in Afghanistan were you?" he asked, looking to Jorge to fill in the information that he was missing about what was bothering his friend.

"In an average person's life span how many people do you think they will actually witness dying?" Harry clarified.

"But you're a doctor, didn't you say you were a pathologist you worked with dead bodies all the time," Jorge said.

"Ah, but they're already dead. How many people do you think it would be normal to see in the act of dying?"

"Well it would depend wouldn't it," said Beto clearly becoming uncomfortable. "I'm not intending to make this into some distasteful competition."

"No, sorry I didn't mean that," Harry added hurriedly remembering a story that Jorge had told him about Beto witnessing his own father's death. Growing up in a family with drug connections in Colombia, it must have been like living through a war. "Most people might be with their partner, maybe an elderly parent when they pass on. But Nikki…she's seen… she's seen…" Harry gave up and looked for support from the concerned faces of his friends. "Too much," he added and took another swig of his beer.

"And you?" Beto asked after a while.

Harry looked up shocked. He was talking about Nikki not himself.

"And you?" Beto repeated.

Harry pulled his hand through his hair and wiped it across his eyes as he recalled a variety of violent ends, gun shots, buses, stabbings, fire. He could feel his stomach begin to churn. He couldn't remember when he'd last eaten so at least he wasn't going to be sick.

"More than most?" Jorge suggested looking at the sadness that it was impossible for Harry to disguise.

Harry nodded.

"And your old boss?"

"Thank God I wasn't there." Harry muttered.

"Yes indeed," said Beto making the sign of the cross. "You would have probably got yourself blown up too."

Harry just stared at his friend. There was so much it seemed he didn't know about him. How had he not noticed it before Beto went back to Colombia? Beto was right. AGAIN! What had Nikki said? That Jack had held on to her so tightly she wasn't able to get to Leo. Would he have had the presence of mind to have done that? He was more likely to have tried to pull Leo away and get them all killed. His friends were still staring at him, obviously waiting for him to say something.

"He was a good man, my old boss. Sometimes misguided, sometimes annoying but fundamentally one of the kindest and most inspiring men I've ever met." Harry said.

"And he sacrificed himself to save Nikki?" Beto asked.

"And many others…"

"So he would have been happy?" Jorge suggested.

"Happy? I don't think that's the word."

"Satisfecho," Beto said.

"If you say so," Harry replied with a shrug. Despite what Beto had said earlier, his Spanish was rubbish. He'd gotten out of his flat for a while, but he'd had enough now. He wanted to go back. "To Janos," Harry toasted raising his beer. His brain finally registering the song he'd heard earlier; 'Common People.'

"I thought your boss was called Leo?" Jorge questioned.

"I don't want to hear the whole list," said Beto with a determined look. He'd tried to get Harry out of his bad place, not make it worse.

"Absent friends then," Harry raised his bottle again.

"Absent friends," the friends toasted. Harry knocked his beer back finishing all that was left in one go.

"I think I ought to go now. It's great to have you back Beto. I might be able to risk the lift and not take the stairs so often." Beto looked towards Jorge who just shrugged, translated "elevator," and threw his hands in the air.

"Night Harry. Do you want me to call you in the morning, make sure you get to work?" Harry was startled again at the open friendship of the men in front of him.

"I'm sure I'll be fine, but that might not be a bad idea. Thanks."

"She'll be ok you know," Jorge added.

"I hope you're right," Harry agreed with a shudder. How were either of them ever going to be ok again?

"Thanks," he repeated, at a loss really to know how to leave. It needed something more than that but a handshake would be ridiculous. Kissing them would be more Colombian style but not Harry's.

"I'll talk to you in the morning," Jorge said and smiled.

"Good night then," replied Harry and hurried out of the bar, realising as he did so that he'd not said goodbye. It was just like Skyping Nikki.

* * *

**Common People: Pulp**


	17. Chapter 17 Next To Me

**Chapter Seventeen.**

**Thursday 30****th**** May**

'**You will find him next to me,'**

"You're in no fit state to go to work!" Anne said to Nikki as she handed her a coffee at about eleven the morning after she'd arrived in a taxi, with a bag, a case and a million questions.

"I can't just stay here though can I?" Nikki replied. "I can't just hide."

"You're not hiding, you're recovering!" Anne said sternly.

"Has Harry asked you to keep me under house arrest?" Nikki asked somewhat cruelly.

It didn't phase Anne, she'd seen grief in many different forms and in all its variety of faces. "I haven't spoken to Harry since yesterday. Why would you think he would do that?"

Nikki just shrugged. She wasn't sure of anything anymore. She sipped her coffee. No she wasn't sure of anything except she was sure Anne had added sugar to her coffee.

"Would you like some toast?" Anne asked as she saw Nikki's eye's lose focus and drift back to her memories.

"Erm, thanks." Anne hurried off to the kitchen. She knew Nikki wouldn't eat the toast, but it gave her something to do. She had begun to understand what had made her son leave. Looking at Nikki in such distress was just like looking at Harry. The same dark shadows under the eyes, same haunted look, same tightness throughout her body. Nikki might not bunch her fists as Harry did and just as his father Edward had done before that but the other similarities were startling. For Harry looking at Nikki in pain she realised, would be just like looking in a mirror and no one needed the grief he'd suffered throughout his life reflected, or doubled.

Nikki was standing at the window when Anne handed her the plate with the toast on. She looked at it in confusion.

"You asked for some toast," Anne stated.

"I did?" Nikki asked. But accepted the plate and turned back to the window.

###

She'd gone home after that, but her house seemed foreign to her. She'd not been away for long, it was still the same but everything felt different, it felt empty. She couldn't stay there. She picked up her bag and went out to her car.

She drove on automatic towards the Lyell Centre, she'd turned on the radio to block out the noise from her brain, she wasn't really listening but one repeated lyric began to penetrate into her consciousness.

'_I will find him, I'll find him next to me,'_

She was glad she knew the roads well; she'd made this journey so many times, at all times of day and night and often when half asleep. But there was something today, maybe that song that reminded her that this was Harry's car she was driving. He wasn't next to her; he had left and she had hardly talked to him since their weekend together in New York. She began to realise that her difficulty seeing out the windscreen was not due to the dust that perpetually covered the cars in London but the tears in her eyes. She spotted a petrol station and pulled into the forecourt just as the song reached the line:

'_When all I need's a hand to stop the tears from falling_

_I will find him, I'll find him next to me.'_

And another wave of overwhelming pain and sadness crashed down on her.

_###_

The Lyell Centre had been quiet; the locum Leo had brought in to cover them while they were all away was at Jack's computer. Clarissa must have been somewhere but Nikki hadn't seen her. She knew exactly where she was going and she didn't need help. She went straight to the drawer that held Leo's remains and wheeled his body into the viewing room. She'd had to beg them to bring him to the Lyell Centre but she wasn't having him anywhere else. Here he was home. She pulled up a chair and sat down. The toast she'd nibbled at earlier was still weighing heavily in her stomach although she'd eaten it hours ago.

"What am I going to do Leo?" she asked.

There was no reply.

She liked the quiet. It was the first place that she'd felt comfortable since arriving back in England. No one would mind if she stayed. No one even knew she was there. She put on the jacket she'd brought with her as the air felt cool and she sat staring at the black bag, just as she had done for hours on that plane.

She ignored the message tone on her phone. There was no one who could be sending her a message that she was remotely interested in reading. But when it pinged three times in as many minutes she thought she'd better check it.

'Can we talk? H x'

She felt the tears prickle in her eyes again. She was exhausted.

'I've got nothing I can say." She texted back.

"Can we Skype? I know where you are.

I want to be there too." Harry replied.

How could Harry know where she was she wondered but then noticed the time on her phone was showing after midnight. If he had called his mother and her house and the office… He was right; he probably did know where she was. She looked in her bag and was surprised to find her laptop in there, so she switched it on and waited.

"You alright?" Harry asked when the video link picked up.

"No," she replied. "You?"

"Not really." He paused. "Do you mind if I just sit here with you for a bit?" he asked.

Nikki disappeared from the screen; he saw her pass once or twice in front of the camera and then the computer being lifted. When it stopped moving Harry realised she had moved him to sit opposite her with Leo in between them.

"I'm really sorry Nikki."

"It's OK Harry; you don't have to say anything." She said, pleased in a way that he was there with her but slightly upset at the disrupted silence.

Neither said a word, occasionally Harry looked up to check she was still there, but her face was fixed unmovable. If he didn't know her better he'd think the Skype had stuck, but he knew what she was doing, he'd seen it many times before. He was more surprised when she started talking; her voice was quiet, little more than a whisper as if she were telling a wonderful secret not the details of a tragedy. He wasn't sure at first if she was talking to him or to Leo, but as he strained to listen he heard her tell the tale of all that went on during their trip. He didn't interrupt once, afraid of breaking the spell and despite all the circumstances and the subject matter he was enjoying listening to her voice.

The story over Harry noticed Nikki lean her head into her hand and a while later her eyes begin to droop. It was still only ten pm with him, he was glad he'd left Beto and Jorge early and despite wanting to be there for her he knew he couldn't sit up all night. He really had to go to work in the morning and he'd have to talk to Leo's solicitor and the undertakers.

"I'm really sorry, Nikki. I'm sorry I'm not really there with you."

"S'alright," she mumbled in a sleepy voice. "Thanks for being here with me like this."

He waited another half an hour to be sure she was really asleep before he spoke to Leo.

"We've said our goodbyes before Leo." Harry began. He looked up to see if Nikki had moved but it did seem as if she was really asleep.

"Thank you," he continued with a crack in his voice. "Thank you for keeping her safe. I'm sorry Leo. I wish you hadn't gone. I wish it was different. I wish you were still here. I wish I had had the guts to apologise properly for what I did to you in Hungary. Hearing you shout as I walked away. I've never got over that and I am truly sorry. I really admired you Leo, you know that. I'm glad I got the opportunity to tell you so before you left. You and she were the best things in my life. I'm going to miss you Leo. Goodbye my friend."

Harry felt slightly relieved as he felt his eye's sting and the tears fall. Two days of anger and alcohol had done nothing to calm him. But sitting in the quiet with Nikki he had finally found some peace.

"Harry?"

Harry scrubbed at his eyes, unaware that she had woken, or maybe she hadn't been asleep.

"Mmm?"

"Thanks for understanding."

"You should really find somewhere better to rest Nikki," Harry suggested.

"I will," she said. "I'd just like to be here on my own for a bit longer. Do you mind?"

"No Nikki, but don't stay all night, please."

"Alright. I'm shutting you down now; I'm almost out of battery anyway."

"OK Nikki, take care. Can I call you tomorrow?" He saw her look at him then a mixture of pain, hope and hurt. "Harry, I…"

"Alright, Nikki I understand. But please call me or text me whenever you want. I'm so sorry Nikki."

"I'm sorry too."

"Night Nikki."

"Night Harry."

* * *

**Next To Me: Emeli Sande**


	18. Chapter 18 Hard Headed Woman

**Chapter Eighteen**

**Tuesday 4****th**** June**

'_**A hard headed woman been a thorn in the side of man,'**_

She hadn't called, or texted all weekend. He'd known deep down that she wouldn't. Once she had made up her mind about something, she didn't budge and she'd said goodbye to him in March and she had really meant it, even if she hadn't liked doing it.

He also knew what she'd done earlier in situations of extreme stress, so he had a fairly clear idea of what she was doing now. She would have gone into lock down mode. She had probably sat up the rest of that night with Leo and silently built up an impenetrable wall around her; protecting her heart from any more pain or any other emotion. She'd be invincible at work, a steely determination to keep it business as usual. He wondered if she'd walked out of the viewing room and straight into Leo's office and cleared it of all his things. No maybe that would be too much; even for her.

He'd managed to call the solicitor and had begun liaising with Leo's cousin Francis in Sheffield. Francis hadn't seen Leo in years but he was the other executor and Leo's wishes were to be buried with his wife and daughter in Sheffield. They agreed between them to have a memorial service in London and then to have the body interred later the same day in Sheffield with a simple ceremony for just family and close friends, not that there would be many of them. Francis seemed to be the only family left. Harry had begged the undertakers to find an available slot on a Monday or Friday, to enable him the chance to travel back to the UK but he wasn't holding out much hope.

He felt so helpless so far away. He wished there was someone at the Lyell he could call, just to check she was ok. He didn't want to pester her with texts and emails but at the same time he wanted to know that she was alright and that all he imagined about how she was coping was true and that she hadn't fallen apart entirely. He had called his mother but Nikki hadn't spoken to her either.

"Professor Cunningham?" Harry's eyes snapped up to see Candy standing at his desk. He wondered how long she had been stood there. Usually he noticed the sound of her heels as she approached. Had he just been staring into space?

"Are you available tonight still?"

"Tonight?" squeaked Harry, "What day is it?"

He heard Ruby move in her cubicle, obviously wincing at his excruciatingly bad answer.

"We're supposed to be off to East Side Community High School."

"Oh yes, I remember. Do I need my flak jacket?"

"I don't know what you mean, but be in my office at six thirty." She turned on her heels and marched off.

"Oh and I'm sorry to hear about your previous boss, your absence has been noted though. Your contract review is in two week's time. Call my secretary to make an appointment." She called over her shoulder as she stalked off.

He went back to staring into the distance for a while until he became aware of someone else standing in front of his desk. He looked up to see Ruby holding a steaming cardboard cup with a Starbucks logo on the side.

"I heard that Starbucks actually make a drinkable cup of tea, one that even an Englishman could enjoy. I thought you probably needed it."

"Thanks Ruby. I'd be lost without you." He took a sip of his tea. "Actually that's not bad, how did you know?"

"My friend had some English family over to stay; they spent the whole time in Starbucks buying tea! Next time they said they'd bring a box of teabags with them."

"Ruby?"

"Yes, Harry."

"If my contract review isn't for another two weeks and they choose not to renew it… I mean term is over in four weeks."

"You only get two week's notice here. It's the same as being paid every two weeks. It all goes back to the anti-slavery rules, holding someone to work against their will is illegal and so notice periods are a maximum of two weeks."

"So what happens if they don't renew it?"

"Why wouldn't they renew it, your work here has been excellent. You missed one day what could the Dean have against you?"

Harry mumbled an inaudible 'nothing much' and sat back in his chair. He wished he were a hippo. Today he wished he could completely submerge himself; he didn't even wish his eyes to be left above water.

What was he going to do?

He checked the time, picked up his phone and called his old work extension.

"Jack Hodgson,"

"Hello," said Harry wondering now what he was supposed to say.

"Is Nikki there?" he asked.

"She's not at her desk right now, can I help you."

"Great."

"I'm sorry?"

Harry had seen the pictures, googled Jack's profile but even having read where he was born, he'd never imagined the accent.

"Look can I help you?" Jack asked losing patience.

"I'm sorry to hear about Leo, I know you hadn't worked with him for long but I'm sorry."

"Who is this?" Jack growled.

"Don't put the phone down please. My name's Harry Cunningham."

"How did you get this number?" Jack asked. He wasn't taking any sales calls, not the mood he was in.

"I used to sit at that desk; I was a pathologist at the Lyell before you arrived. Harry Cunningham? I'm sure my name must have been mentioned."

"Not often," Jack replied, still not appeased.

"I wanted to know how Nikki is."

"Well why don't you ask her yourself, instead of annoying the hell out of my morning?"

"Is she there?" Harry asked again.

"NO!" came the pointed reply.

"Look, I'm just trying to help. Nikki sometimes handles grief…well…badly. She hasn't spoken to me recently and I was just trying to see how she was doing?"

"Listen; if Nikki's not talking to you then I'm not talking to you."

"Just wait, one more minute please. Nikki; she's acting as if everything's normal. She's working twice as hard as normal. She's had a screaming match with at least one copper and she's always last to leave the Lyell."

"Maybe," Jack replied.

"Is she sleeping?"

"How would I know that?"

"Is she going home?"

"I think so." Jack replied. "Yes I picked her up from her house yesterday, so she's definitely going home."

"Good," said Harry. "Is she eating?"

"I am not her mother!"

"Is she?" Harry's was the voice to show impatience now.

"Not much."

"Can you do something for me? Can you leave a chocolate bar or something on your desk? Don't make a fuss about it, just leave it there. She'll eat it if she wants to. At least she'll have had a few calories."

"I'm not sure…"

"Please Jack, it's not like I'm asking you to spy on her, just leave her a chocolate bar now and then. She won't take it if you give it to her, but if you just leave it on your desk chances are she'll pick it up. Oh and check she's had at least two hours sleep before sending her off somewhere dangerous."

"Alright Harry."

"Thanks," Harry replied.

"I haven't done anything yet." Jack insisted.

"You saved her life," Harry said.

"Oh, well that makes us about even then."

"Yes, I heard about that."

"Did you now?" Jack replied. Nikki might not be talking to Harry at the moment but she must have been recently for Harry to have known that. He noticed the doors open and Nikki make her way towards the desks. "I have to go now."

"Is she there?"

"Yes."

"Bye then."

"I'm sorry for you too," Jack said graciously. He'd not known Leo long, but it was clear that anyone who had known Leo for more than five minutes would be mourning his passing.

"Thanks," Harry said quietly.

"Bye."

Jack put the phone down and met Nikki's questioning gaze.

"Who was that?"

"Just someone 'y…a' used to work with," Jack stumbled purposely not making the pronoun clear.

"I thought no one you used to work with still liked you." Nikki retorted.

"This one seems to," Jack replied, spinning round on his chair to face his desk. He pulled open a drawer and pretended to be searching for something but really he wanted the chance to avoid looking at Nikki. He was beginning to work some things out. That fuss she had made when he had offered to bin the stuff left in his soon to be desk. She'd nearly bitten his head off. He was beginning to suspect the reason. Harry Cunningham may have forgotten to finish cleaning out his desk before he left but it was clear to Jack that Harry also had other unfinished business he hadn't attended to.

* * *

**Hard Headed Woman: DeMetrius (Elvis)**

**Thanks to the lovely person who I'm afraid I can't remember who it was who tipped me off about Starbucks tea… See I told you I'd incorporate all the suggestions just that it would take a while! Put the memory loss down to old age. The two week notice periods and pay periods are the way they do it over there, and it does genuinely date back to the abolition of slavery laws. As does the three no show, no calls rule. Not sure how particular NYU are but the hospital I used to work in was very hot on it. **


	19. Chapter 19 When You're With Me

**Only two today I'm afraid, but in my defence, this one is really two chapters, I should really split it, but I couldn't face renumbering the rest of the files. We're nearly over the worst now… Thanks as always to my lovely reviewers.**

* * *

**Chapter Nineteen**

**Tuesday 4****th**** June**

'**Do you think of her when you're with me?'**

Harry knocked lightly at Candy's office door at 6:30 exactly. He was hoping he wouldn't have to sit through another meal with her. He wasn't entirely sure what her reaction to him today would be.

"This one starts at 7:00," she said brusquely. "We'll just grab a sub on the way, is that ok?"

"Suit's me fine," Harry said looking at his shoes.

Candy walked out from behind her desk and stood in front of him, right up in his face.

"I'm not who you think I am," she said. "I do have a heart, despite reports to the contrary."

He looked into her eyes then. There was a slight hint of vulnerability there, as if his earlier rejection had stung and not just her pride.

"Do you have everything?" Harry asked.

"Yes, can you do the spiel tonight, I've been in meetings the whole day and my brain's fried."

"Sure," he agreed as they walked to the elevator. "So where's the best place for sub's round here? I'm assuming we're not going to Subway?"

"No, we are not." She said with a shudder. "We'll go to Defonte's best meatball subs in the City."

The small shop was heaving; the chattering of the people in the queue was almost drowning out the overly loud sound system, but whoever was singing Harry could hear they were putting their heart and soul into the song. The temperature was even hotter inside the shop than the sweltering temperatures outside, Defonte's might make the best subs but he didn't think much of their air conditioning. Candy thrust a ten dollar bill into his hand. "Make mine a meatball sub, no cheese," she yelled and went to stand outside under the brown awning.

Harry panicked at the counter when he realised Candy hadn't specified what kind of bread she wanted, but fortunately there wasn't a choice. How could even ordering a sandwich be so complicated in this country?

He had to agree with Candy the subs were good though and the East Side was less scary than the West Side. At least at this school the chairs weren't bolted to the floor. He'd seen poverty and poor social provision in the UK, but the gap between the haves and have nots here was vast and they were all living on each other's doorsteps.

With the seminar over Harry was surprised to find the evening was cooler, 'fine' would have been the British description. The daytime temperature in the City, meant walking anywhere during the day was becoming unbearable, or at least required a change of shirt. Tonight the sun was still shining but the humidity had dropped. There was a chance of walking more than five paces without feeling as if your lungs were being torn apart from the inside or the heat was melting your skin and hair.

"Shall I walk you home?" Harry asked. "It's a fine evening," he added in way of explanation. "You're not far away." He looked down at her shoes; it was possible he thought despite most American's aversion to using their legs.

Candy gave Harry a hard stare.

"Are you expecting me to erase your unauthorised absence?"

"I'm not expecting anything!" Harry replied feeling his anger rising. He had thought they might have a pleasant evening for once but it just exposed how little he understood her. With her there was always a motive for everything.

They plodded along together in sulky silence for a block or two.

"Why are you doing this?" Candy asked.

"Doing what?" Harry replied. "Walking you home? Coming out to all these daft seminars? Living in New York? Believe me I've had my fill of 'why' questions recently."

"Which one do you want answered?" Candy asked.

They waited for the light to change and the white man to appear on the crosswalk sign. Harry was still deep in thought.

"What 'why' question would I like answered? "I want to know WHY my old boss ever decided to Afghanistan, WHY they didn't turn round and leave the minute they got there, WHY he had to take the others with him and WHY he decided it was his responsibility get himself blown to smithereens to save them. Are those enough WHY's for you?" he exploded.

"Those whys don't have answers," Candy said gently. "Try why are you walking me home?"

"What do you want to hear?" Harry asked sullenly.

"Well you could say that you were interested in getting to know me better, you could say that you think sleeping with me would make any problems you might have at NYU go away, or you could say that some meaningless sex is a great way to stop feeling the pain for a moment."

"Candy stop!" Harry insisted. "Is that what you think about people? What you think about me? That everyone is just acting in their own interests? That I would sleep with you for my own personal gain?"

"Wouldn't you?"

"I'm not even answering that," Harry replied grinding to a halt. "Anyway what problems do I have at NYU?"

Candy shrugged, ignored his question and said calmly, "You could pretend I'm her."

Harry stared at her. He had the feeling he'd walked out of that school and into a totally different world. What else had changed other than the humidity? Candy took his dumbstruck open mouth as an invitation, grabbed the back of his head and kissed him.

Harry was too stunned to know not to reciprocate but as soon as he realised he pulled himself out of her grasp.

"So there is someone," she said with a mixture of amusement and triumph. "It might help, with your ghosts," Candy suggested.

"What ghosts?" Harry spluttered.

"You may be a fool Harry, but I'm not. You still have one foot firmly in London and one foot in New York, you have to decide which way you are going to move, or you'll be ripped apart from the legs up."

Harry winced at the image and stuttered, "I don't…"

"Cut the crap Harry. You should know by now that I don't accept half measures of anything and I don't like liars." She was still up in his face, in his personal space just as she had been in her office, when she confessed to having a heart. He was beginning to discover some evidence but not enough to convince him yet.

But this was a new side to Candy he'd never seen, he couldn't just blame the change on the weather. What was she doing? He could still taste the mint of her gum in his mouth, she was terrifying and yet he still felt the stirrings of arousal. He'd upset her last time rejecting her offer of coffee. If he rejected her again he wondered how he would be able to keep their relationship both personal and professional intact. Why had he offered to walk her home? He wasn't sure himself.

"It might enable you to finally move on!" Candy continued when Harry still hadn't answered.

"What?"

"Don't you want to move on?" she asked still in his space, her voice taunting now.

"I mean if it's that pale thing that came to visit that time, there's really no comparison is there, there's hardly even enough of her to hold on to, someone like you needs a real woman." Candy seemed to breathe in and make herself even taller than she already was. "She didn't seem to have any trouble saying goodbye to you, you don't think she fancies you, do you?"

"DON'T" he hissed. How dare she? His anger was back and with it his voice.

She didn't seem as upset as he thought she would be. Maybe it was all some kind of twisted game she was playing. Just a different way to annoy and irritate him as he'd begun to be immune from the others. Well she'd won that round; he was angry.

But it was her suggestion that had really shocked him; that Candy would be prepared to take him to bed knowing he wasn't even thinking of her. Firstly because it was shocking and secondly because she seemed to think she knew what he wanted. Is that what he wanted?

He had tried, tried to move on when he moved, he'd tried again when Nikki had left in March and not contacted him again. He'd made up his mind to stop as she'd asked and was just coming to terms with his decision when he'd spoken to Leo and found out about their little outing. However much he was prepared to let her go and get on with her life, the tug he felt when he heard she was dancing with danger again, was so strong he knew that he could never let her go. She had told him long ago that it was 'up to him,' and settling for the status quo of her not talking to him wasn't a decision. That was settling, that wasn't up to him. Faced with the prospect of her in Afghanistan it became very clear to Harry that he would never be able to let her go, he just didn't know how to get her back. It seemed impossible.

"Is that why you took this job in the first place," Candy sneered her beautiful face taking on an unbecoming smirk. "Thought you could leave her behind…but she's still haunting you."

"Will you please stop!" he roared. "She isn't dead!"

Candy looked puzzled then, she was sure she had figured it all out, but there was something she was missing. She stopped for a while deep in thought, "You're telling me you were in love with the one that DID die?" Candy asked.

"No!" Harry insisted, tearing his hands through his hair.

"I'm going to warn you Harry." Candy continued, even she was aware now that she'd pushed him too far and backed off a little. "Some irregularities have been noted in your department. You need to watch your back and pray that your students get good results."

"What on earth do you mean? I've done everything by the book, my whole time here."

"But that's not entirely true is it?"

"I missed one day, when I forgot to call in! I talked to Ruby. It was rather exceptional circumstances."

"He was just your old boss." Candy said flippantly.

"Leo was not JUST my old boss," growled Harry.

"No," Candy replied and rolled her eyes. He might have denied a relationship with the boss, but it was more than just employer employee of that she was certain. "No he wasn't just your boss just like your old colleague who came to visit; is not JUST your old colleague," she said pointedly.

Harry opened his mouth and closed it again, he could have gone on to explain but he doubted that Candy was capable of understanding any selfless act so she would have no framework to even begin to understand who Leo was and there was no way he was talking to her about Nikki. She seemed to know far too much already. He also didn't trust standing next to her with his mouth open again.

"I'm just saying watch your back." Candy insisted. "Now is not the time to rock the boat."

"So asking for two days off to get to his funeral is going to be out of the question?"

"In the current climate? I wouldn't if you want to keep your job here."

Harry rubbed his hand through his hair which instead of comforting him as it usually did just left his hand feeling unpleasantly damp. He wiped it on his trousers.

"What aren't you telling me?"

"I can't tell you Harry. Now are you really walking me home, because you've stopped and we're still a couple of blocks short."

"Sorry," mumbled Harry and carried on walking. He didn't know how he was going to tell Nikki that he wouldn't make it to the funeral. She wasn't returning any of his calls. He couldn't just not pitch up without talking to her. He would be devastated. She would be devastated. Or maybe she wouldn't be. Maybe she didn't care anymore. But she'd called him that first night, she'd let him sit with her, sit with Leo. He wanted to go. He should be there. They should lay Leo to rest together. If they weren't allowed to make him work a notice period against his will because of anti-slavery laws how could they make him work when he had to be at a funeral?

"Are there guidelines about whose funeral I can take time off for?"

"Pages of them, but an old boss isn't going to be on them."

"Close family friend?" Harry suggested.

Candy screwed up her face and shook her head.

"What about personal days? I could take a couple of those, I've only used one this year and don't we get three?"

Candy didn't respond.

Harry sighed. "So I could take two personal days together?"

"You haven't got two personal days left," Candy snarled. "You've only one and a half."

Harry raised an eyebrow.

"You missed the morning of February 25th."

February 25th? How did she remember this shit? That was just after his birthday. Harry lifted his hands to run them through his hair again but thought better of it and let them drop back to his side. His trip back from Niagara!

"I rescheduled that seminar for later that day; you can't claim that was a personal day!"

"Were you in the office?"

Harry shrugged, there was more to this conversation somehow, but he was at a loss to know what it was or how to find out what it was.

"You're not supposed to take two personal days together and there are limitations as to when you can take them and definite limitations if you actually only have one and a half."

"And I just bet the exam week is exactly the time they're not allowed."

Candy nodded again.

"Two days unpaid leave?" Harry begged.

"You can take it up with the board but at this time of year, it's unlikely. Can't you just wait a month and go back in the vacation?"

"But I have to be at the funeral!"

"WHY?" Candy asked her voice raising, the conversation cycling. "You don't have to be there for him. He's dead. He won't know."

"You are pitiless!" Harry exclaimed. He'd thought he wanted to know more about her but the more he learned the less he found to like. If he could he would have turned on his heel and run back the way he had come, but Candy had grabbed hold of his shirt.

"Is that what you think?" Candy asked her face pressed up against his. "But what about HER? If you don't turn up for that funeral it's going to be like making any spark of life left in her heart; the one that you probably broke in the first place, totally extinguished. There'll be no love left in it at all. Nothing!"

Harry let out a half choke, half cough. He felt his jaw clench and his breath coming in quick bursts.

"You just have to decide what you want more Harry. It's up to you." She paused and looked at him, his pupils dilated and the gasping breaths, it made no difference to her what the passion was. She just loved seeing passion.

"Are you coming up?" she cocked her head towards her building. Harry backed away from her and stared again.

"I don't think that will be a good idea," Harry he said through gritted teeth.

"You're loss," Candy replied and climbed the steps to her doorway. "It's the NYU family fun day Saturday next. We have a stall and do the same promo NYU stuff. You'll be there won't you? It's the biggest one of these events in Central Park. It's usually quite fun. Put some sunscreen on and bring a hat," she called over her shoulder as the door slammed shut.

He should have been touched by her apparent concern about his welfare but he knew she was really only covering her back against a potential lawsuit if he got burnt on duty.

Harry stumbled a few steps backwards away from her door. His chest felt tight, his lungs contracting in pain but it wasn't the humidity this time. He turned and began plodding along the road, back the way he had just come. There was something Candy had said that reminded him of something and he couldn't quite remember what.

He felt the wind get up about three blocks from his building. It was odd that here the wind always heralded a downpour. It was touch and go whether he would make it home before getting drenched to the skin. Like everything else in America even the rain seemed harder, wetter, more intense here than anywhere else. He had fond memories of a fine drizzle in England, rain here was nothing like that; first there was the wind and then if you hadn't sought shelter quickly you'd be wet through to your underwear in a matter of seconds.

It was later as he brushed his teeth that he remembered what it was. It was something Leo had said in their very last conversation.

"Don't come back for me, come back for her."

But he'd chosen to move forward. He couldn't go back. Could he?

* * *

**Picking Up the Pieces: Paloma Faith**

**I love Candy in a twisted kind of a way...let me know what you think :)**


	20. Chapter 20 Crying In The Chapel

**Chapter Twenty**

**Tuesday 11****th**** June**

'_**I've searched and I've searched, But I couldn't find, No way on earth, To gain peace of mind.'**_

He'd tried everything he could think of, but there was no way he could make it back in time for Leo's funeral. The only day available that the undertakers and the different venues could do was a Tuesday. He'd wondered about taking the red-eye Monday night, making it just in time for the service and going straight back to the airport but he would be cutting it fine and if he stopped to talk to anyone he was likely to miss his extortionately priced flight back. That wasn't paying your respects. He'd be better off not there at all. Harry hated the decision but there was nothing he could do. Leo probably would have appreciated the money spent on development projects in Afghanistan rather than futile and expensive trips across that Atlantic. His mother had volunteered to go. He'd thanked her and advised her to keep out of Nikki's way if it were possible.

He'd written Nikki an email and a text and left her a message. She hadn't replied to any of them. He would have to talk to her soon. She was one of the beneficiaries of Leo's will and it was up to him to sort it all out. He'd booked a flight back to England on the first date after the semester finished and he was finally free of NYU commitments.

The funeral was set for 11am. Francis had been kind enough to discuss the order of service with him even after Harry realised he wouldn't be able to attend. Leo had even left an outline, the songs he wanted played, a poem he liked. Harry was pleased to note it wasn't 'Always look on the bright side of life.' He wasn't sure why it was such a popular tune for funerals; it could work for some Harry thought but not Leo. He'd chosen some cello music it seemed a far more appropriate instrument. Harry remembered laughing at Leo's taste in music but he couldn't fault the cello piece, it said everything that couldn't be said perfectly.

He'd woken up early the day of the funeral. He'd not been sleeping properly since he'd got the news about Leo, no that wasn't true. He hadn't been sleeping properly since he found out they were going on some fool's mission to Afghanistan and if he were really being truthful with himself he would know he hadn't slept properly since Nikki had been to visit. It was as if his body had already reverted to GMT. He paced up and down in his flat for a while until Mrs Finkelstein's little dog started to yip. He threw on his clothes and set off for work despite it being only just after five. He could take a detour, walk through the park. Six am wasn't such an early start for American office workers.

He walked two blocks further north than he would usually, thinking he could walk two blocks further in every direction and he'd eventually end up back where he started or in a position to walk to NYU. The sun was bright, it would be scorching by lunch time but this early there was still a slight chill in the air. There were more people on the street than he was expecting and many heading into a store. He couldn't quite make out what it was selling when he saw a small wooden cross in the window. He crossed the street and peered in.

It looked like a coffee shop. There were chairs, tables and a counter serving coffee. He found himself stood in the queue before even realising his feet had moved.

"How much?" he asked looking round for the price list as he held the cup of steaming coffee.

The woman behind the counter smiled at him, "It's free," she laughed.

"It's alright," the woman laughed in response to Harry's bewildered face, "we're a church, not a freaky cult, it's a free coffee. You'll live."

Harry relaxed and smiled back at her, "I've lived here nearly a year and I never even knew this place existed."

"You wanna doughnut too?" she asked, picking up a doughnut with some tongs.

"No, I'm good thanks."

"You work at the University, Hospital or United Nations?"

"What makes you think I work at any of them?"

"Cos, you not from the 'hood are you?" she laughed.

"The University," he admitted.

"Well that's good then, you just in time for class professor."

"What?"

"Tuesday is art class."

"I thought you said this was a church."

"There's a lot more to the week than an hour on Sunday morning!" she laughed. "God work for six days an' then take a day off; we try an' do the same."

"But an art class?"

"It's art therapy, we have kids come on their way to school, some who've been doin' drugs, in gangs, some are refugees, most seen more in their short lives than you could ever imagine. We take anyone messed up, sure is plenty o' them in this town. It's not just kids, there are adults too. Tara is trained to help them."

"That doesn't sound like church."

"You see anyone else out there helping those kids for free? Gettin' 'em back on their feet 'n outta trouble?" she asked. "Soundin' 'xactly like what church should be to me."

Harry couldn't disagree, so he took his coffee and moved further into the room and found a quiet place to sit. The chairs were just scattered about, nothing was formal here. If he couldn't be at Leo's actual funeral, sitting in a church at the same time was about as close as he was going to get. However unconventional it seemed. It didn't look much like a church, no stained glass windows, or gold lecterns. It was all plain and simple but there was a feeling of peace and stillness that he hadn't felt for a while.

"Would you like some paper?" Tara asked offering him a drawing board and a variety of pencils.

"I'm not here for the class, I just wanted…" he trailed off. There was no point in lying or making up a story it wasn't the place. He checked his watch.

"In London in five minutes time the funeral of one of my most respected and closest friends is about to begin and I can't be there." He took a sip from his boiling coffee to control the pricking feeling in his eyes. "I'd have really liked to have been there, for him, for my friends and what's left of his family."

"Stay as long as you like," Tara said kindly. "I'll leave the paper though; you might feel like drawing something."

"I'm not an artist," Harry admitted.

"We're not here to manufacture masterpieces. We're here to give people an outlet to talk about their experiences and then to give them hope, the strength to start over and the power to make a change."

"But what if the thing you want to change can't possibly be changed?"

"I'm not saying we can bring your friend back to life," Tara said hastily.

"I know," Harry smiled. "I wasn't meaning that,"

"Everything can change, that's the difference between being alive and being dead. If you're still alive you can still change. There would be no point in us being here, doing what we do if we didn't believe that."

"You mean anything is possible?"

"No, not everything," she said calmly. "We don't pretend life is a fairy tale here, but if you want something hard enough and are prepared to make the changes and put the effort in it needs, then some things become possible that before were impossible. She put down the drawing board on the chair next to Harry. "Maybe you just want to draw something to remember your friend," she suggested and walked on to the next place.

Harry looked around the room, the girl at the coffee counter was now chatting easily to a man who was obviously homeless, there were a number of teenage boys sitting together drawing and talking, they all looked like they belonged in the school where the chairs were bolted down and everyone was being respected and respectful. It didn't make Harry feel any more disposed to believe in any kind of supreme-being, but there was certainly evidence of the very best of humanity on show.

He sat quietly with his eyes shut, it was rare for him to sit like this, he hated himself for not being with her, with Nikki not being able to say goodbye to Leo and at the same time he was overwhelmed by the thought that Leo was actually gone. Three thousand miles away it was easy to imagine that nothing had changed. But it had. He squeezed his eyes tight, silent contemplation had its place but not Harry thought for him today. He wiped a hand over his face and picked up the drawing board Tara had left him.

He stared at the blank paper and thought about what he could draw that would be a reminder of Leo. He thought about the Matisse that hung in his office: 'The Joy of Life.' He couldn't recreate that with a couple of HB pencils. And that was only something Leo had, something he liked; it wasn't who he was.

What was it that was Leo? He was a friend, a boss, a mentor, an example, and excellent pathologist. They were all true but none of them summed up what it was to be Leo. There were also the parts of his character that Harry found harder to understand, his love of popular classical music, his involvements with a number of women he worked with, his insistence that there might be more to life than what could be tested with science. But that didn't encapsulate Leo either.

After a few more minutes he picked up his pencil and began to scribble in a circle, round and round the lines getting darker and darker and darker.

##

Tara sat next to him without saying anything.

"I told you I wasn't an artist," Harry said when he could stand her silence no longer.

"He saved all those people. You're friend, he died saving those people." She indicated the faceless crowd of stickmen that Harry had drawn at the back of his picture.

Harry nodded.

"And it's his funeral, right now?"

Harry nodded again. He hadn't been there of course but he'd heard Nikki describe what happened that night that they had sat together over the remains of Leo's body. He was smart enough to fill in the rest of the blanks and picture the scene.

"And this woman here," Tara pointed to the foreground. "She is very important to you."

"How do you know that?" Harry asked.

"She has more detail than anyone else, although I have to say your attention to detail on the viscera and body parts is quiet impressive." Tara added pointing to the foreground on the other side where a mass of scribbled pencil indicated the explosion.

"Sorry" Harry said quietly. "I'm a doctor, I know body parts."

"So who is she?" Tara asked. "This important woman in your life?"

Harry looked at his picture. Tara was right. Everything else was just stick people, and although he hadn't drawn Nikki as she was, she was bigger and had more detail than any of the others. Even Jack was just a faceless figure with his stick arm as a barricade keeping Nikki away from the explosion.

"She's Nikki, she was my friend but I moved here and now I've ruined everything."

"She's still alive?" Tara asked.

Harry nodded. "Thanks to him,"

"And you're still alive?" Tara continued.

Harry nodded again.

"So it can't be too late." Tara put her hand on Harry's shoulder. "I'm very sorry for your loss. I hope you find the way to make the change you need to. We're here every Tuesday. Feel free to come back any time. There's no commitment, we won't call you or hassle you or make you sign up to stuff. We'll be here and of course we do have Sunday services."

"Thanks," said Harry. He put out his hand to shake Tara's.

"It's been a pleasure meeting you."

"Harry," explained Harry, realising that he'd never actually introduced himself.

"I've enjoyed talking with you Harry, and I am very sorry for your loss."

"Thank you," Harry answered reassured that this stranger really did mean the words that he had so often said as part of his work. He stuffed his drawing into his pocket, waved at the coffee girl and set off for NYU feeling lighter than he had for months.

* * *

**Crying in the Chapel: Artie Glen (Elvis Presley)**


	21. Chapter 21 How?

**Sorry for the delay, needed to get these three right and I needed a bit of help. Thanks to tigpop for catching up and all your reviews and wise words. And super thanks and NYU pens to you lovely reviewers.**

* * *

**Chapter Twenty One**

**Saturday 15****th**** June**

"**We will meet again somehow,"**

Harry was already sizzling, he'd only been at the stand for an hour but the sun was beating down. He'd grabbed an NYU ball cap out of one of the promotional boxes and stuck that on his head but it was doing nothing to stop the burning feeling on the back of his neck between his hairline and collar. It felt like pins were being stuck into his skin and not the soothing acupuncture kind. Candy was in a bubbly mood, handing out free soda and NYU pens. He was surprised she was enjoying it; the faculty and student family fun day didn't seem to be her kind of thing. There didn't seem to be anything she could gain from it. It wasn't like her at all, she didn't enjoy anything that didn't further her own ambitions. There must be something else going on that Harry wasn't aware of, unless of course her sunny mood was as a direct result of his misery.

They'd managed to avoid each other at work in the last week or so, since he had walked her home. There had been no mention of any problems at NYU and the date for his contract review just drew ever closer. When he had seen her she'd been entirely professional, cold almost. Ruby had given him a hard stare, she'd obviously realised there was an 'atmosphere,' but he didn't feel the need to share the details of that previous conversation with her. Ruby was his shelter from the storm; he needed her on his side.

The sports events were starting at eleven and a number of the schools they had been to visit were all sending teams. It wasn't organised sports from what Harry could make out, it wasn't like an inter school lacrosse championship, it was more 5 aside soccer and a glorified version of a primary school sports day. He'd not seen a sack race mentioned or egg and spoon, but it wasn't far off. Father and son table tennis, probably mother and daughter cookie dough rolling, he'd not read the flier too carefully.

On the next field or area of the park a big concert was being set up. He could hear the sound checking going on. The concert wouldn't be until the afternoon, the two event s would overlap for a while, but not for long. It would explain why the park was even busier than usual.

"How's business?" Candy asked as she returned to the table.

"I've got 12 teams already registered for the 5 aside soccer competition; and another four teams have registered for the ultimate frisbee challenge. My students are supposed to be arriving soon to help set up the ball pool and soft play area."

"Great, just don't wander off."

"I beg your pardon?"

"You heard."

"Hi Professor Cunningham, we brought you this, we thought you might need it." His students dumped a long thin sack on the ground.

"I think I'm grateful," Harry replied with a confused face. It didn't take them long to pull out the contents and start erecting the simple tent gazebo. It had open sides to let the wind through but a covered roof to keep the sun off.

"Thank you!" Harry said sincerely, immediately embracing the cool shade.

"You did have sunscreen on didn't you?" Chantelle asked.

"Of course I did, I can't leave my apartment without it," he laughed. "I might just take a restroom break though, if you'll be ok here. It's not complicated just give out fliers to anyone who walks close enough. And get any teams that arrive to sign up on the sheets here. There's another sheet in the box with all the insurance disclaimers on, they have to be filled in too."

"Sure thing."

Harry pointed out all the piles of paper, Chantelle just nodded, taking it all in.

"Professor?" she said, after Harry had dithered some more and restacked another set of forms. "I'm really sorry to hear about what happened."

"Thanks Chantelle,"

Harry could have used the blue line of portapotties just behind his table but he decided to walk slightly further for a convenience with running water. He needed something to cool the back of his neck.

The water from the sink dripped down his back, it was slightly warm from being in the pipe, but still cooler than the inferno like temperatures outside. His shirt was wet with sweat so a bit more water wouldn't make much difference.

He could hear a piano being played at the concert area as he walked back to the NYU event. There was something familiar about it. He'd probably heard it on a night out with Jorge, they'd heard lots of local bands. There were banners and placards being erected all around the stage. It was going to be a big show. Maybe he'd hang around.

"Where have you been?" demanded Candy when he got back to the gazebo.

"I took a bathroom break, those are allowed aren't they?"

"You were gone a long time."

"Excuse me?"

"Just keep away from the concert area, it's some political rally thing, we cannot have NYU endorsing political views, do you understand?"

"It's just a concert." Harry retorted.

"It could be a fundraiser for Al qaeda for all I know. Stay away!"

"They're unlikely to fundraise in Central Park, aren't they?" Harry said casting his eyes south in the direction of the changed cityscape.

"Ah look, here come one of last year's winning teams, they named all the States and State capitals in alphabetical order and all took it in turns. It was an amazing sight," Candy enthused.

"Hi Scott," Harry said wearily. He couldn't muster any more enforced jollity; he was using all his energy to withstand the onslaught of heat and to keep a check on Candy. Her behaviour today had surprised him almost as much as on their walk home. Every time they spent time with each other, he saw another facet of her personality. He had no idea who the real Candy was. Maybe she'd been play acting for so long, she'd forgotten too.

"Hey Harry! I'd like to introduce my family, come on kids, come and say hello to Professor Cunningham, he's got an amazing accent."

"Hello," said Harry to the three girls and one boy stood in front of him. He'd realised after the third month that no matter how long he spent in America, his accent would set him apart like a freak show gimmick. It was irritating and exhausting.

"When's the food tent open Dad?" whined a middle sized one, "I'm hungry." He was given a couple of half-hearted waves from the gathered children, a whassup and a lot of chewing from the oldest with a sour expression and gum addiction. Perhaps that counted as a greeting?

"So what events are you signing up for today?" Harry asked.

"I think we'll just stick to the table tennis and see how the day goes," Scott replied.

"Have a great time," suggested Harry with a fake smile plastered on his face. He checked his watch, he'd agreed to stay until one; after that it was someone else's problem and he could go wherever he liked.

The day was nothing like a 'fun day' by his definition, he was hot and tired. Everyone around him, all the people he recognised had materialized with wives, husbands, partners, significant others and a throng of offspring. He'd noticed Debbie and her three children making their way towards the desk and had quickly shoved Chantelle back to the front claiming he needed to check on the insurance forms for the bouncy castle. How could anyone feel like bouncing on a hot day like this? He hadn't been spotted but as the morning wore on his mood only deteriorated.

"I need to go and get a drink," Harry said later when Candy came past.

"We've got plenty of soda, have one of those," Candy suggested.

"I need a drink, not a sugar surge. I'm going to go and buy a bottle of water. I'll be back in five minutes."

"You're on the clock until one Harry. It's only 12:15!"

Harry made his way over to a kiosk selling overpriced bottles of mineral water. He could read the placards and posters for the concert over on this side of the field. It wasn't Al qaeda as he supposed, it was raising money for the Syrian refugees and promoting peace in the Middle East. He recognised the amnesty international logo on the newly erected placards. He didn't understand why he couldn't even be seen near it. It wasn't as if his face was on any NYU poster.

He walked closer to get a better look and heard someone singing. It was the same tune he'd heard earlier he was sure. As soon as he made out the words he remembered where he had heard it before.

'_How, can I begin again?_

_How can I love someone new?_

_How can our love be true?_

_When I'm not over you?_

_I guess you know by now that we will meet again somehow'_

He realised he'd been stood staring at a poster, to catch the sound of the voice inside. His thoughts turning to a topic he'd tried so hard to move on from but couldn't.

Nikki.

Whatever he did, wherever he went there was always something to remind him of her and remind him that everything he wanted was impossible. With Beto back in town, it was finally safe to brave the lift and Elvis' pronouncements on the day, but it seemed even here in the park that the music was still taunting him.

"Nikki," he murmured.

She would hate him now; she'd still not answered any of his messages or emails. She'd have worked so hard to keep it together up to and including the funeral and now she would be exhausted and the only emotion left in her heart as Candy had pointed out would be her hatred of him for his betrayal and for letting her down, AGAIN.

Moving on from her was impossible; he'd tried, he had really tried but it was a reality that sat now in his brain etched in with other scientific proofs, just as concretely as Newton's Laws of Motion or Avogadro's constant. However much the pressure or space changed, this constant remained; the fact that he loved Nikki Alexander. But if moving on from her was scientifically impossible, which he liked to think he'd proved; then did it mean that now the only thing that was possible was the alternative?

* * *

**How? Regina Spektor**

**So I made up a lot of this chapter…don't know if NYU do faculty fun days, certainly the university in the US I was associated with did, and wow was it strange. I only ever met the head honcho of the department once at that event, he now has presidential medals, is one of the most cited biologists ever and has the department named after him, when I met him he was still the top dog of the department but he was wearing only a pair of the smallest speedoes you've ever seen, looking just like Mr Burns from the Simpsons. Even 25 years isn't long enough to erase that memory. Also Regina Spektor has played for Amnesty International gigs, just not this year, I know I've used the song before, but it needed a reprise.**


	22. Chapter 22 This Is Living

**Chapter Twenty Two**

**Saturday 15****th**** June**

'_**I really wouldn't care, To be a millionaire, I'd rather find someone to love a lot, Live and give it all I've got.'**_

Candy would be irate but he couldn't tear himself away. He stood for a while longer watching the workmen and sound crew adjusting wires and twisting things round. He couldn't see the singer, but her voice was captivating. He suddenly felt himself pushed from behind by a scuffle of people and as he turned he saw one of the people handing out leaflets had collapsed to the ground. There was a rush of people around the fallen person but instinctively Harry pushed himself to the front.

"I'm a doctor, let me through," he said, with his brain telling him he was not really a doctor anymore just a teacher.

The pile of clothes collapsed onto the pavement hardly looked big enough to be human. He knelt down and checked the breathing of the elderly lady on the floor.

"Mrs Finkelstein?" Harry cried in confusion as she blinked her eyes up at him. "What on earth are you doing here?" He put his arms under her shoulders, assured that she wasn't suffering from anything other than the effects of the hot sun.

"Harry? Is it really you? Baruch Hashem!"

"But what are you doing here?"

"I wanted to do my bit for peace," she whispered. "Can you take me home? Please?"

"Of course I can." He opened his bottle of water and held it to her lips.

"Have you been here long? You should have been in the shade. Surely someone else could have done this?" Harry chided.

"Shh" Mrs Finkelstein said in reply and sat up further.

"Can you stand?" Harry asked.

Mrs Finkelstein nodded and Harry half carried, half supported her back over to the NYU gazebo and helped her into a chair. There was hardly any substance to her, he could have easily carried her but he let her walk. He knew how important independence and dignity were to the elderly. "Here have this soda," Harry insisted.

"I'm not keen on the stuff," Mrs Finkelstein admitted.

"There's fluid, there's sugar, it's perfect. Chantelle can you go and find us a cab please and give me a text when it's there and I'll bring Mrs Finkelstein across? Here's my number." He scribbled the number on some paper and shoved it at Chantelle.

"I don't think…" Chantelle began, her eyes widening and then running off up the path.

Harry turned to look behind him in the direction of Chantelle's concerned stare and was unsurprised to see Candy there, looking murderous.

"Going somewhere?" she asked haughtily.

"Yes, I need to take my neighbour home; she's suffering from heat exhaustion."

"Is she part of the NYU event?" Candy asked.

"No, she was at the Peace Rally…"

"You were WHERE?" Candy thundered.

"I don't want to cause any trouble," Mrs Finkelstein murmured weakly. At that moment Harry's phone beeped.

"Come on, that'll be the cab," Harry said putting his arm around Mrs Finkelstein and helping her up.

"If you leave Harry, it will go down as another point against you on your disciplinary record." Candy said coldly.

"It's three strikes and I'm out right?" Harry asked.

"Yes," Candy agreed.

"Well so far I've only got one. I'm sorry Candy. This is more important. I'm going." He moved Mrs Finkelstein away as quickly as he could, he could only imagine the look of incandescent rage on Candy's face as the two of them walked arm in arm up the path together.

##

"I hope I haven't got you into trouble dear." Mrs Finkelstein said as Harry helped her into her easy chair and went to find her a drink, a cold flannel and some water once they had got back to her apartment.

"I really don't care. I'm doing the right thing for once and it feels good." He said holding the cold flannel against her forehead.

"Thank you,"

Harry rinsed out the flannel in the bowl of water, rolled up her sleeves and began dabbing it on her arms.

"Why did you have such thick clothing on today? It's no wonder you fainted. It must be well over 100!" Harry babbled and the suddenly stopped. He couldn't help staring.

"Your friend knew what that was too," Mrs Finkelstein said tiredly.

"My friend?"

"The pretty girl that came to stay with you once."

"Nikki?"

"Yes, I think that's right, my memory for recent things, isn't so good now you know. I can remember the past very clearly," she twisted her forearm as she said this. "I met the young lady out in the hallway one night, we had a nice chat."

"Oh yes, I remember. I've hardly spoken to her since that weekend." He said sadly.

"That's a shame, she was a lovely girl. She'd be good for you, you know. You couldn't bring yourself to fancy her just a little bit?"

Harry stopped dabbing the flannel and stared at his elderly neighbour. "Why do you say that?" he asked.

"Well I know you're very friendly with Jorge and his friend…"

"I'm not gay, if that's what you're suggesting," Harry replied.

"You're not?" Mrs Finkelstein clarified.

"No," Harry said with a laugh. "Not even close."

"Oh!"

"Why do you think I should like Nikki?"

"Well I was sure she was in love with you."

"Nikki? In love with me?" Harry thought back to all they had said that night before she had left.

She had said that _they_ were in love.

She had replied in the affirmative when he asked her whether she meant what she'd written in his guide book.

But she had never looked him in the eye and said, 'I love you.'

All the other stuff she had said was probably just to force the ending that she wanted, not that she had actually meant it.

If she was in love with him, she would call wouldn't she? She would answer the emails he sent her? Harry put down the flannel and scrubbed his hand across his chin.

"What you didn't know?"

"What makes you think she was in love with me?" Harry asked in confusion.

"Oh my dear, I have lived a long time and I have seen plenty in my life time. I have seen unspeakable cruelty and hatred and I have seen love. That girl was in love with you."

Harry ran his fingers through his hair. 'You should get to know her,' isn't that what Nikki had told him in that same conversation. How did she find some things in life so effortless, so easy to understand when they all seemed so impossible for him?

"Oh!" said Mrs Finkelstein in response to her neighbour's face.

"Oh indeed," replied Harry.

"You're in love with her too?"

Harry half shrugged, half shook his head and then stopped.

"Yes, I am." He admitted.

"So?"

"It's impossible," Harry insisted.

"It's never too late," she advised.

"I think it might be," Harry replied.

* * *

**This Is Living: Weisman & Wise (Elvis)**

**If you're confused we meet Mrs Finkelstein in Part 2 and Chapter 45 is her conversation with Nikki and around there will be the conversation Harry and Nikki have on the following night.**

**Is that a big cheer I hear as Harry finally catches on?**


	23. Chapter 23 Where To?

**Chapter 23**

**Monday 17****th**** June**

_**I lost the only treasure that means anything to me**_

_**What now, what next, where to? **_

It was the first email he opened on Monday morning; he looked up across his imaginary African Plain and saw a look of foreboding on the faces of many of his colleagues. They had probably got the same message. Something was going down; he could even imagine the vultures high overhead swooping in ever decreasing circles looking for victims. They wouldn't be dissimilar to the turkey vultures that always flew above the freeway. Candy had warned him and now they were all being called in one at a time to a meeting of the entire Board. His appointment was at 10:15.

He went to lean over Ruby's desk; she was his baobab tree offering him shelter in the middle of the dry and barren landscape.

"Do you know what they're about?" he had asked her.

"I'll try and find out, I thought your contract review was set for tomorrow?"

"It is; this must be extra."

Ruby began tapping away at the keyboard and then headed over to the water cooler. Harry had nothing else to do until his later seminar so sat on the edge of Ruby's desk, waiting for her to return.

"So what's new at the water hole?" he asked with a smile.

Ruby did not return his smile, "Word is," she said knowledgeably, "That it's about some grade level fixing, but you wouldn't know anything about that would you?"

"Nah…" lied Harry with a sinking feeling in his heart. "I'll let you know how it goes."

He went back to his desk and went back through his emails. His desk might be tidy but he rarely got round to deleting emails and it didn't take him long to find the one from Scott Volosin detailing the marking strategy. It was the one that described how much of a percentage point he could alter the student's GPA by each time. He'd remembered thinking it strange at the time and moaning about it to Nikki, but never for an instant did he think that it wasn't an actual NYU policy, just a stage managed strategy to make Volosin and his section of the department look successful.

Professor Volosin was his boss; he had given him the instructions. Harry for once had done what he was told. Should he have questioned the decision further? He was new. He had a lot on his plate. He took the time to go through his student's papers individually so even if the grade did say B- he had always made it clear in his review session where the student could have improved and it didn't take them long to do just that. Harry's end of year results had been excellent.

At that moment Ruby sent him a message.

"It was Professor Boxleitner that blew the whistle and started the grade fixing investigation," it said.

Harry stood and thanked her over the partition and made sure to delete the email. He wasn't letting her get into any trouble over this debacle. Randy Boxleitner, Harry thought. A year's worth of disciplinary actions and the constant observations of him had obviously only just changed his behaviour from screwing as many people in the department in one sense to screwing as many people in the department as he could in a different sense.

Harry entered his meeting clutching a copy of the email Volosin had sent him. It was dated September, how was he supposed to have known any differently back then?

"You have something to show us Professor Cunningham?" the vice chancellor asked him.

"I'd like you to take the time to consider carefully whether what is on that paper is going to make your situation better or worse," Candy said pointedly.

Harry looked down at the paper in his hands. It would implicate Volosin, there would be no room for him to manoeuver with the hard copy in the hands of the board. Is that what he wanted? Other than obviously lying about the marking policy, Volosin had always been good to him. They'd had lunch together on occasions; he was a pleasant enough. He had four kids and worked hard for his Hungarian Community Group. The Board could well have enough evidence against him already; there was no point in Harry sticking the knife in.

"This?" Harry said when he had taken time to think. "No this is just a first draft of a letter I'm thinking of writing, asking that my contract is not renewed at tomorrow's meeting."

He wasn't quite anticipating what he was going to say until the words were already out. He looked to Candy to gauge her reaction, but her face wore its mask of professionalism.

"Professor Cunningham, this is not the place to discuss this, we are here to discuss the fact that it seems in many areas of the medical sciences department there has been an agreed grade fixing going on. We want to know if you know anything about it?

"My students all got good grades in the end of year exams."

"Yes they did," agreed the Vice Chancellor. "We have been pleased with your input here at NYU, your contribution has been welcomed. But were you ever told that you had to limit the marking of their papers to within a percentage point of their GPA?"

"I was told a lot of things when I first arrived. I don't recall many of them. I have always worked in my own style to get the best from my students."

"Is that all you have to say?" Candy asked.

"Is there something else you want to hear?" Harry asked.

"That will be all Professor Cunningham. Can I on behalf of the board ask you to consider carefully your letter regarding the renewal of your contract with us? You would be missed here at NYU." Candy said.

"Thank you," Harry had replied and had made a quick exit.

Ruby had had to take another trip to Starbucks to revive him with a proper cup of tea after his interview.

"How did it go?" she had asked.

"I think I resigned," Harry had admitted.

"You what?... Why?"

"Why?" Harry had mused.

"Did you fix your grades?" Ruby had asked.

"Only because I had been told to, I always told the students what I actually thought their papers were worth, just kept to the mark scheme in the paper work."

"But they couldn't discipline you for that; you could say you were just doing as you were told. You only have one mark on your disciplinary record…

"I don't Ruby, I left early on Saturday, I met an elderly neighbour of mine, I left early to take her home, she was taken ill."

"They can't penalise you for being kind surely?"

"Don't you believe it, the mood Candy was in when I left she would have fired me on the spot if she could have done. I also gave my personal mobile details to Chantelle so she could call me when the cab arrived, I wouldn't put it past Candy to add giving student's my personal telephone number to my list of misdemeanours.

"But you don't need to take the fall for this. Why did you do it Harry? Why? You could have told them who it really was. "

"I could, but I didn't. I'm not taking the fall for the grading debacle. I just can't be here any longer. I need to be in England."

"But I thought you liked your job here."

"I do…but…"

"You're going back?"

"No, I'm not going back. I'm going to make a change. I'm going to do something new and I'm going to do it in England," said Harry decisively, a plan forming in his brain and a sense of rightness filling his soul. This time his decision to make a change didn't make his stomach churn as it had when he had decided to leave the Lyell. This time it felt right. Just as helping Mrs Finkelstein had felt right. He would have to leave Jorge and Beto, that would be hard but he knew they would be able to understand.

He'd formulated the letter that night and had given it to Candy in their review meeting the next day. Volosin was there too, looking shocked and relieved. He'd made sure to look Harry in the eye as they shook hands at the beginning of the meeting. Both men knew exactly why. Harry knew Candy was watching them both, but even she was powerless to make something out of a handshake.

"There's nothing I can say that would change your mind?" Candy had asked. "More money? Your own office? Not having to do the publicity seminars?"

"I've made my decision. I have enjoyed my work here at NYU but this will never become my home. I have a lot of business to attend to in England. I need to be there." Harry had stated.

"You'll be missed," Candy had replied, the professional face slipping for an instant.

"You'll be fine without me."

"Of course I will," she had said coldly.

"I don't suppose many people will even notice I've gone."

"I will," Scott Volosin said. "You have been a superb teacher, you really feel you have to go?"

"I do," Harry replied.

"I'm glad Boxleitner and his wife got back together." Candy began, her mind already solving the next problem. "Maybe she'll want her old job back," she said ruthlessly.

"Maybe she will. Goodbye." Harry said.

"Thank you for your contribution to NYU. Close the door on your way out," Candy called after him.

* * *

**What Now, What Next, Where to? Robertson Blair (Elvis)**

**Lots of references to Part 2 here, so if you're confused try Chapters 6 and 19**


	24. Chapter 24 Viva Las Vegas

**Thanks again my lovely reviewers especially KiwiSWfan, you'll have to be quick on the button if you want to race her...You could give it a try.**

* * *

**Chapter Twenty Four**

**Tuesday 18****th**** June**

_**I'm gonna give it everything I've got**_

_**Lady luck please let the dice stay hot**_

_**Let me shoot a seven with every shot**_

"Harry! You're back early," Jorge commented as Harry entered his building that night.

"Well there's only a couple of weeks left of term," he stuttered, "It's all winding down a bit."

"You must come over later. We've got something to tell you," Jorge said excitedly.

"Hmm, I might have some news too," Harry muttered but not really loud enough to be heard.

"So will you come over?"

He wasn't really in the mood, he had a lot of thinking to do, but his time with his friends was quickly running out. Having set certain wheels in motion it was like setting off a landslide of actions and consequences. He would be gone in a matter of weeks; he didn't have time to waste. All of Leo's affairs that he was supposed to be sorting out and processing would have to wait until he got back to England. He'd still not managed to tell Nikki that Leo had left the two of them the proceeds from his house sale, or more exactly he had left them his house, its contents and his car. They were joint home owners and they weren't even talking to each other. It sounded similar to a number of other couples he knew.

"Sure," Harry replied. "See you about eight?"

"It's the best news ever," Jorge said with a massive grin.

Harry trudged around to the lift, he didn't bother checking his mail box; there was only ever the discount sheet from the grocery store. He'd have to give notice on his apartment, cancel the rental of his furniture and arrange pick up.

The lift opened.

'_Viva Las Vegas!'_

Sang Elvis. There were some things he would miss more than others when he moved, he thought.

###

Beto had a big smile on his face and a bottle of champagne in his hand, when Harry knocked at their door later.

"So what's the big news?" Harry asked with as much enthusiasm as he could muster.

"Jorge got the call!"

"What call?" asked Harry, thinking it wasn't going to be like his summons before the Board.

"VEGAS!" Beto squealed.

"What?"

"Jorge's been offered a slot in Vegas for the summer, Trent Carlini has asked for a summer off."

"Trent who?" Harry asked.

"¿Por qué somos amigos con este burro?" asked Beto glancing across to Jorge.

"Trent Carlini is THE number one Elvis impersonator," Jorge gabbled on ignoring Beto. "He won a competition in 2007, $100,000 dollars and a contract at Las Vegas Hotel and Casino."

"This is the first summer he's asked for off in seven years? Are you sure you want the gig?" Harry asked.

"It's going to be BRILLIANT!" they smiled and put their arms around each other.

"If it works out they'll take him on permanently," Beto grinned. "Carlini is showing his age and no one really likes the fat Elvis stage…"

"I'm going to Vegas, I'm going to Vegas," sang Jorge.

"Viva Las Vegas!" Jorge and Beto sang together and high fived each other, raised their arms and danced round each other Cumbia style. Harry hadn't seen them so exuberant since they had won the competition in Niagara.

"Congratulations!" said Harry, clinking his now full glass with their half empty ones as they danced around him too.

"You're both going?" Harry asked looking from one to the other. "What about your job?"

"Oh there are enough illegal immigrants needing representation to keep me busy in Vegas for the rest of my life," smiled Beto. "It's not even settled that we'll stay. I'll just take a sabbatical for the summer. That's the good thing about working for peanuts, you can leave when you like and it's only a three hour flight if I had to come back anyway."

"You're leaving me!" Harry exclaimed.

"We didn't say you couldn't come, don't you get a massive break before the semester starts again?"

Harry nodded.

"WELL?" they looked expectantly at him. "Come with us?"

Harry blinked and looked at them both. They had never made him feel like the third wheel, he loved their company. He'd handed his notice in today, he was free to do as he liked. He could spend the summer in Vegas if he wanted.

"I can't come," Harry insisted.

"Aguafiestas!" muttered Beto. Harry looked to Jorge for a translation…that one hadn't been about donkeys for once.

"Spoilsport," translated Jorge. "Why not?"

"Because I quit my job today…"

"You did what?" his friends chorused.

"I asked them not to renew my contract. Told them I was going to England. I told them I had business to sort out there."

"You could still come with us!"

"I can't go to Vegas,"

"Why not?" Jorge asked seriously. "There's nothing keeping you in New York."

"I'd sort you out with a work permit," Beto said encouragingly.

Harry smiled ruefully and shook his head.

"Does the business you have to deal with in England, include sorting things out with Nikki?" Jorge asked after a long silence.

"And if it does?"

"I'll drive you to the airport myself," Beto said. "Are you ready to leave?"

Harry gave a wry chuckle. "You know it's complicated between us."

"It'll be a lot less complicated if you're living in the same country…the same city…"

"That's what I'm hoping," admitted Harry.

His friends smiled. "Good for you Harry." There was a slight pause then Beto added, "So when were you going to tell us that YOU were leaving US?"

"You beat me to it," Harry laughed. "I'm not going back," Harry insisted. "I'm going to do something new; I've an idea for a business I'm going to start. I'll be my own boss."

"Brilliant news,"

"And you are going to sort things out with Nikki?"

"I'm going to try. Why is it so important to you?" Harry asked.

"Strange as it is Burro, we rather like you," Beto said scuffing Harry's hair with his hand. "We like seeing you happy."

"And?"

"She makes you happy," Jorge concluded.

"Congratulations!"

"Congratulations all round!"

They clinked glasses after Jorge had refilled the empty ones.

"Viva Las Vegas!" Jorge toasted.

"Viva Las Vegas," Beto and Harry toasted back.

"You could come for the first couple of weeks?" Beto suggested.

"I'm not going to Vegas with you," laughed Harry. "You'll not even miss me."

"No, he's right we won't, he'll be back in England in the rain…" Beto began.

"And you'll be in the desert in the middle of the summer!" spluttered Harry. "I'd probably die."

"That's true, have you ever heard him whine about the weather here?" Jorge asked Beto.

"Pero, ¿dónde vamos a encontrar otro burro? Nadie es tan bueno en llevar todas las cosas como él."

"I am not a donkey!" Harry insisted.

Beto punched Harry on the arm. "We're going to miss you Burro."

"I'll miss you too," Harry agreed.

"Hey, this is my night for celebrations, no sadness; none, none, none!" Jorge exclaimed. "So no long face from you," he pointed at Harry.

"Don't you start!" Harry insisted.

"Eh?"

"Long face… Harry thinks you've stared to call him donkey now." Beto half whispered to Jorge.

"Burro!"

"It suits him,"

"What? His new name?"

"No, that look on his face."

"I am here you know!" Harry spluttered. "What look on my face?"

"The decisive one."

"You think it's decisive?" Beto quipped back.

"How would you describe it?"

Harry made a show of staring at the ceiling, whilst his friends finished their 'private' conversation and drank his champagne ostentatiously.

"I think he looks like a man with a mission. Very James Bond."

"At least I'm not a donkey," Harry muttered under his breath but his eyes twinkled when he met his friends gaze.

"I always liked James Bond," Jorge admitted taking a step towards Harry.

"Easy!" Harry laughed.

"Good luck my friend, may all your dreams and plans come true too." Jorge said and clinked his glass with him.

"To new beginnings!" Harry toasted.

"New beginnings!" Jorge agreed.

"Comenzar de Nuevo," Beto added.

* * *

**Viva Las Vegas: Pomus and Shuman (Elvis)**

* Why are we friends with this donkey?

Where are we going to find another donkey? No one's as good at shifting all the stuff as he is.


	25. Chapter 25 Love Is A Losing Game

**Chapter Twenty-Five**

**Monday 24****th**** June**

'_**Played out by the band, Love is a losing hand,  
More than I could stand, Love is a losing hand.'**_

Nikki had promised herself the night of Leo's funeral that from that day on she would be strong. She wouldn't go running to Harry for help, his non-appearance on that day of all days spoke volumes. She'd read his excuses on his emails before she'd consigned them to her junk box. Francis had waxed lyrical about all the help he had been and how upset he was not to be there. But the fact was that he had left her to get through that day by herself. It was unforgiveable.

She'd assured herself that she wouldn't nose dive into any of the destructive behaviours she'd fallen into before when she felt her grip on the controls of life weaken. No random men in her bed, no wallowing in self-pity, no looking back, no medication. She would be the one in charge and it would be a one woman show.

The intentions were good.

Some of them she kept.

But she'd forgotten how debilitating the insomnia was.

She could happily fall asleep at six o'clock when she got home from work, her head so heavy and body so tired she rarely made it passed the first chair in her house. She'd moved the couch just so that it was closer to the door. But then she'd wake a couple of hours later having had nothing to eat, too tired to make anything and too tired to go back to sleep. The downwards spiral was ghastly. The lack of food exacerbated the tiredness, the poor sleep routine aggravated the insomnia.

Then there was: the grief, the anger, the helplessness, the fear.

She talked to Harry then. Called out to him as she lay in her bed in the middle of the night pretending he was in the room next to her. She told him about the day's case, about the police officer she'd torn a strip off, about what variety of chocolate bar Jack had left on her desk. She told him she hated him. But she never picked up the phone and she made sure never to have her computer on at lunch time on Sunday.

She was moving on.

She couldn't go back.

She wouldn't go back.

She'd tried going out, Jack always offered and she'd gone a couple of times, having checked that Clarissa would come too. She liked having her there; somehow she couldn't face the idea of a night out on her own with Jack. Maybe she was afraid she would enjoy it. But with Clarissa with them it was impossible to express her own sense of injustice at the cards life had dealt her; one look at her companion quashed any notion of life being fair. They had all chosen to go to Afghanistan. They'd not chosen the consequences but Clarissa; she'd had no choice about the hand she'd been dealt.

She'd tried the cinema. On reflection Les Miserables hadn't been the best choice.

She'd tried a classical concert, but she'd felt self-conscious on her own and even more so as the tears rolled down her face.

"It's is a moving piece isn't it dear?" The lady next to her had said. "I've always found the cello a magnificently stirring instrument."

Anne had invited her to the summer musical production but she'd declined saying she was on call that weekend.

Truth was she was on call every weekend. The department was falling apart at the seams. The principal had put out job adverts and hired a locum when the work load was ridiculous. But all Nikki was able to do successfully was work, so there didn't seem much point in taking a break. Besides Leo's sofa was the only place she could guarantee a decent sleep.

She'd cleared out his office. Piled his stuff into boxes and driven it round to his house. They had agreed to keep spare keys at the Lyell after Harry had had to break her door down that time. She'd never imagined being in Leo's house by herself. Certainly not in the circumstances.

It was like tiptoeing around in your grandparent's bedroom when they were out.

She made herself a cup of tea, opening the cupboard and revealing the jars and cans of food, pasta, coffee, matches, bin bags. The boring stuff of day to day life. She crumpled to the floor, sliding down the cupboard, her body shaking with violent sobs.

"I can't do this Leo," she'd cried out. "I know you told me not to give up, I know you showed me but it hurts Leo, it hurts."

She'd left the tea in the sink. Thrown out the contents of the fridge. Left the boxes from the Lyell in the middle of the floor and had driven home.

She might be a one woman show, but there were some things she was not strong enough for.

Days, weeks went by.

She no longer needed make-up to create the smoky/ dusky eyed look. She'd got natural black rings above and below her eyes. She'd lost weight too; she needed to make a change. But she just didn't have the energy. The one time she'd gone to an exercise class, the first time she'd stretched down to the floor and rolled up through her spine again she felt the blackness dancing at the edges of her vision. Two tracks later and she'd nearly passed out.

There weren't many letters that still came for Harry. Most of them she recognised. The Letting Agency, bank statements, store loyalty points. She didn't even bother opening most of them. Just chucked them in a drawer. Out of sight.

But there were two different ones this week . The first was a replacement debit card. She'd make sure to hold on to that one. He wouldn't want it sent, would he?

The second was from the Letting Agency, it wasn't the normal month end review. She opened it and felt the slack grip with which she held on to the control of her life weaken and then shatter. The letter was a copy of Harry's instruction to sell his flat when the current lease expired at the end of the month.

"Don't give up on love," she remembered Leo saying. He hadn't been the only one in the past year to say that to her.

But love had given up on her. She'd tried to keep hold of it all these years, retain some semblance that her life was just like anyone else's. But it wasn't. Everyone had left her.

Everyone.

For a while she still held out hope that Harry would return; that somehow things might work out between them but she held the proof in her hand. He was selling his flat. He wasn't ever coming back. It was the end of the line.

* * *

'**Love Is A Losing Game' Amy Winehouse**


	26. Chapter 26 Return To Sender

**Chapter Twenty-Six**

**Friday 28****th**** June**

'**This time I'm gonna take it myself and put it right in her hand.  
And if it comes back the very next day then I'll understand,'**

Harry stood at the bedroom window of his apartment squinting up the street to see the flags from the UN building in the distance. They had comforted him when he first arrived, a sign that the rest of the world did still exist even if most Americans thought their country was the centre of the Universe. Now his time was over and everything was changing.

Jorge and Beto were leaving.

Leo was gone.

The Lyell Centre would be adrift without Leo, his imagined other life, the one he would have had, had he never left would have been in uproar or over.

The school year at NYU was over, the students had left.

He had not renewed his contract and having made the decision he didn't have one regret.

Candy had bullied him and pushed him around for the last time. He didn't have to take her intimidation any longer.

This was going to be new, different.

A new life.

Last time he'd tried to make himself a new start he'd not really considered what he actually wanted, he'd settled for something different to what he had. Anything different to what he had, had been good enough then. But this time he'd taken the trouble to think through what he wanted and this was going to be better. No managers to boss him around, his own place, his own rules and his Nikki.

That was the only part of his plan he had no guarantees about. He knew the change he wanted to make between them. They'd agreed they were lovers months back. By moving to London, they would at least have the opportunity to develop their relationship. But would she want to? He knew how he felt. Had he left it too late?

He called his letting agency and asked for a valuation on his flat and given them instructions to put it on the market for sale when then current tenant's lease expired. He'd already had estate agents give valuations on Leo's place so he would be able to sell it when he'd had a chance to empty it. With the money from the two properties and a business loan he would be able to buy a house with office space and put his master plan into operation.

Except it wasn't really his master plan.

It was Leo's.

Harry had thought often about his last conversation with Leo and his idea of going solo, examining the cases that no one else wanted, being the independent investigator. It all seemed like a perfect business plan. He'd spoken to a couple of London universities about the possibility of a part time lecture post. LSSE had begged him to consider the now vacant role at the Lyell Centre. But that would be going back and he had made his decision to move forward. He would take on just enough teaching to make the bills manageable and gradually develop his business. The more the business thrived the less teaching he would need to do.

He would need Nikki's help. She had part shares in the house according to Leo's will. She'd have to agree to sell it and split the profits with him. He was sure she wouldn't want to keep it. Its location made it no good for Harry. If he was going to start his own business he needed a place that people could find easily and enough space possibly so they could park. One of those old Georgian places just out of town could work. Blackheath maybe? Wasn't that where the plague victims were buried? It would be a great location for an independent pathologist.

But it would mean that Nikki would have to agree to sell Leo's house. He was sure she wouldn't want to live there. Would she?

How would he know? He'd not spoken to her for months and each Sunday as he sat by his computer waiting and hoping that her Skype icon would show she was online was torture. He didn't miss one though even though not hearing from her cut deeper and deeper into his soul.

"Don't come back for me, come back for her," that's what Leo had asked Harry to do and for once he was going to take Leo's advice. Maybe he should have paid more attention to the man when he was alive. It was still hard to imagine that he was really gone.

'Come back for her,' he knew he could make her happy, if only she'd let him. That time they were together in New York, they had been happy. But it was a holiday romance. Even Nikki had described it as such. Anyone could be happy for a weekend in a big city with a beautiful friend. His challenge now was to return to England, rebuild his life into something new and prove that he was worthy of her and address the insecurities that she had voiced. Her worries that she was unlovable, that she didn't deserve to be happy.

He could turn up at her door he supposed with a bunch of flowers, barge his way in and kiss her, tell her everything would be alright now he was back. But even he wasn't fool enough to try that plan. That might be what he felt like doing but if he really wanted her he would need to be prepared for the fact that it would take time. He knew he'd grown sick of thinking all he wanted was impossible, it might turn out to be impossible but he wouldn't know until he'd tried and it was time to stop thinking and time to start doing.

He still hadn't been able to tell her the terms of Leo's will despite the emails, she hadn't replied and he could only think she'd been deleting them without opening. Or maybe she'd marked his name as junk and she never even got to see them. He wrote it all down in a snail mail, all his plans for his business, a copy of the details of Leo's will, the date of his return flight. She would read a letter, wouldn't she? He'd get a copy of the will sent from the solicitor too, that she might open.

He'd arranged for his furniture to be collected, his leaving date with the apartment building, taken any electrical items and anything else he didn't want or couldn't fit in his suitcase to the church he'd gone to the day of Leo's funeral. He'd paid off his utility bills and emptied his cubicle at NYU.

He'd taken Jorge and Beto out to dinner and Ruby out to lunch. He'd filled in a recommendation form for Chantelle to join a programme allowing her to take her junior year at an overseas university, and had been pleased to hear that his old college had accepted her. She was ecstatic and terrified in equal measure.

"You'll be fine," he assured her.

"Will everyone there be like you Professor?" she'd asked.

"I really hope not for your sake," he'd laughed. "Thanks for all your help," he added.

"You're welcome."

He was slightly worried about what Mrs Finkelstein might think, but when he explained his intentions, he saw such a look of pleasure sweep across the old lady's face that he'd even stooped down to give her dog an affectionate pat.

"Mazel Tov!" She'd exclaimed. "You're a good man Harry. I wish you every happiness."

"You make it sound as if I've just got engaged!" Harry had laughed.

"But that is your plan?" Mrs Finkelstein had clarified.

Harry had sat back in his chair thought for a while and then smiled.

"Now you mention it. I think it might be."

"See, I was right all along. Mazel Tov!"

"I hope your new neighbour will be alright."

"Don't worry about me, Harry. You have enough to worry about. I'm really pleased for you and I hope that business of yours takes off."

His life in New York was tidied up, no loose ends, no regrets.

He closed the window and lowered the blind.

It was time to go.

**Return to Sender: Elvis Presley**


	27. Chapter 27 Elvis Has Left The Building

**Apologies before we start, this is not the chapter many of you were hoping for; I claim in my defence: 'The course of true love never did run smooth.' Midsummer Night's Dream Act 1 Sc 1.**

**At least I know KiwiSWfan is with me on this…**

**Hope anyone getting results yesterday, got what they wanted. Good luck.**

* * *

**Chapter Twenty Seven**

**Sunday 30****th**** June**

**Sundays at One**

'…'

Nikki opened her eyes to bright sunshine; it took her a while to work out where she was. She was in her bed for once and if the clock said 11 then she must have had six hours of continuous sleep. Perhaps things were improving? If you could call sleeping between the hours of 5am and 11am improving. It was Sunday, her brain managed to recall. Maybe she'd go for a walk later.

She climbed reluctantly out of bed feeling somehow heavy, drugged almost. She'd gone for so long just snatching a couple of hours of sleep at a time that this long sleep had disoriented her and despite the sunny weather and the fact that she should be feeling better, she felt just as lethargic and weak as she did on the days when she'd not slept at all, worse perhaps.

She'd taken a shower and on finding fresh milk in the fridge sat down and ate some cereal. She didn't remember buying it. Maybe Jack had put it there when he picked her up a couple of days ago. He wasn't subtle but she did appreciate his thoughtfulness.

She tried to feel positive, but the more she thought about what she wanted to do on that bright and sunny day the more her mood plummeted.

She'd not been in contact with any of her girlfriends for months; most of the relationships had descended to cards on birthdays and the occasional email. She could facebook them but she had little interest in the number of children they all had and even less about their exotic holidays. Her depression since Leo's death, (she wasn't a fool and she wasn't kidding herself, she knew she was depressed) had driven even the friends that had tried to phone her away. Her goddaughter's mother had tried, at least they shared Leo's loss but she had a new baby and had everything to look forward to whereas Nikki had nothing.

Maybe she could call Jack.

Would she need an excuse?

She'd got tired of finding work related reasons to call him. Maybe she could thank him for the milk.

She switched on her laptop to check her messages and see if she could think of someone she could visit.

She'd not seen Anne for a while…

Nikki shook her head. It wouldn't be fair. That woman had dealt with enough tragedy in her life time; she didn't need any extra vicariously.

It would be good to talk to Harry, she thought, spinning the bottle of pills that had been on the table in her hand. He would understand she thought. It had been months. She could allow herself one conversation. She needed to find out the truth about his flat being up for sale. She looked at the clock in the bottom right hand corner of the toolbar on the screen. It was 12:55.

Would he be there?

He'd promised when she had returned to England that he would always be there, Sundays at one. Always waiting.

But he would have given up when she never contacted him. Wouldn't he? He wouldn't wait forever. It had been fifteen weeks since their weekend together. Three months was too long to wait.

He was happy in New York. She'd seen that.

That weekend they'd been together he had been happy, she had known it. It wasn't down to her being there. He had a great time with his friends, his own friends. He'd made something different happen and he was happy. The New York Harry was different to the London Harry, he took chances and sang in gay bars but he still hadn't taken any chances with her, and that had hurt.

The clock clicked nearer to one and she could feel her heart thumping in her chest as she opened her own Skype connection.

He wasn't online.

Any vestiges of positive thinking evaporated and she pushed the remains of her cereal away from her. So much for promises.

She waited.

Nothing changed.

Her disappointment was now replaced by rage. Trust no one; that should be her new motto. He was probably out shagging Candy. She cursed herself for her weakness. She should never have turned on the Skype, what had she been thinking? She'd avoided the computer every Sunday lunch time for exactly this reason. Her head hurt. Sleeping was over rated; it had just made her vulnerable, it had made her think she could handle a conversation with Harry.

What really did she have to say to Harry? It would only have descended into an argument about why he hadn't been there and there was no need to specify where THERE was. THERE. It was the final crack of the axe that had split them apart for good.

She knew his reasons of course, she'd read the first few emails before they made her too angry to look at and she knew in his mind they were good reasons but that wouldn't have meant that they couldn't have still had the most almighty row about it. Shouting at police officers wasn't anywhere near as satisfying as a decent fight with Harry.

She shut her computer down and was surprised to hear the doorbell. Maybe it was Jack coming round to restock her fridge.

"Hello Nikki," the man on the doorstep said as she opened the door.

The face in front of her was the one that had caused her such anger only seconds ago. Instead of improving her mood his sudden appearance at her front door precipitated her into a state of complete meltdown.

"You bastard!" she shouted and slammed the door in Harry's face.

She could see his outline through the bevelled glass windows. He wasn't moving and he certainly wasn't leaving.

"Nikki?"

"I just tried to Skype you," she called petulantly through the door.

"Sunday's at one!" Harry replied, checking his watch. "I got a cab straight here from the airport to make it in time. I'm only a few minutes late."

Nikki didn't answer; she was still in turmoil and hadn't actually processed the fact that it was Harry stood on her doorstep in London, despite slamming the door on him.

"Erm Nikki? You can slam the door on me again in a minute, but please can I borrow some money for the cab, my card didn't work in the machine at Heathrow and I'm all out of sterling. It just swallowed my card for no reason I don't know what the problem was. I was really careful with the pin number. Please can you lend me thirty quid? You can push it out the letter box if you wish but if you don't do it soon it'll be thirty five quid."

Nikki opened the door slightly and handed Harry her purse.

"Take what you need," she said and was surprised to see her arm shaking as she pulled it back round the door. She opened the door a tiny bit further then and watched Harry jog down the path and to retrieve his bags and pay the taxi driver.

He carried his bags back, placing them on the path outside her front door and handed her back her purse.

"Thank you, I'll pay you back." His face looked tired, more deeply lined than she remembered it, but she didn't dare look for long.

Nikki shrugged and stared at the bags on her doorstep. They were the same bags he'd left her house with the year before. The same ones she'd helped him pack and carry down her path and into her car before that awful trip to the airport.

"It was out of date," she blurted out, her whole world beginning to spin.

"Pardon?"

"Your bankcard was out of date,"

"Oh,"

"I've got your new one inside."

"Oh," Harry said again and pointedly looked at the half closed door. He stood in silence for a while. "Nikki? May I come in?"

She didn't reply but he saw the door open and Nikki step back to allow him to get through the door with his bags. She kept her face looking down at the floor. He couldn't read her expression. But he knew that his dream, the one where he'd had flown back, burst through her front door, swept her into his arms, kissed her and changed the world with one embrace was just a stupid fantasy. This was real life not Disney.

This was going to be much harder.

Much, much harder.

She'd not even said 'hello,' yet. Maybe all those months of not saying goodbye had rubbed off and now she'd deleted 'hello' from her repertoire too.

He put his bags down in the hallway and rubbed the scar on his forehead. 'You never believed in fantasy anyway,' he told himself.

"Hello Nikki," he repeated, hoping for a more favourable response this time. She had at least let him in the house.

"You are a complete bastard," she yelled her face to the wall, slammed the front door and turned back around and glared at him. Except she didn't quite glare at him, for some reason she glared at his left shoulder, not daring to raise her gaze to meet his eyes.

* * *

**Silence: Elvis has left the building. Elvis Presley died today August 16****th**** 1977, thanks for the music.**

**Poor Harry plunged into turmoil and confusion and silence. Without Jorge's lift music, Elvis won't be able to help Harry along anymore. And apologies to all expecting the 'Disney' ending, I just couldn't do it, we've all come so far and I appreciate every single one of you who has spent time reading this drabble but thought to do them justice they needed a bit more…So there's more to come, we will get there I promise. Besides KiwiSWfan is already planning the wedding… Feel free to yell at me, just press the review button first ; )**


	28. Chapter 28 Talk To Me

**Chapter Twenty-Eight**

**Sunday 30****th**** June**

**Talk to me**

"Nikki, I'm sorry, whatever it is I'm sorry."

"I just Skyped you, and you weren't there. You promised you would be there," she said resentfully.

"Nikki, I was in a cab on the way to your house!"

"They're called taxis," she grumbled, a sarcastic edge to her voice.

Harry found himself breathing in and out slowly, concentrating on keeping the breaths even and not turning on his heels and walking back out the door.

"But you had that special 4G thing…"

"Nikki, I was minutes from your house. Isn't having me here better? Did you want to talk to me?"

"Yes," she said quietly, picking at her nails and staring at the floor.

"Then talk to me, I'm here." He felt like shaking her but didn't trust her response if he tried to touch her.

He saw her look up then, quickly catch his eye and look down again. If he'd blinked he would have missed it.

"But for how long?" she mumbled.

"Nikki?"

"Don't look at me like that!" she cried her eyes reddening. "I know you won't be here long, just do what you have to and get out of here," her voice was beginning to sound threatening.

Harry took a step towards her, he was confused, he'd explained everything to her. Written it all down. First she was cross with him for not being there when she wanted to talk to him and now it sounded like she was throwing him out.

"Nikki," he said calmly holding a hand out to her. "Talk to me please." He was tempted to add that he'd spent all night on a plane, crushed between a sumo wrestler and national hot dog eating champion and he wasn't in the mood for any more crap, but he bit his tongue. Fighting with her was not going to solve anything, not when he was so tired.

He saw her looking at his hand, but she didn't move. He took another step towards her and held out the other hand, which she also ignored.

"But you're selling your flat," she spat viciously. "Are you just hoping you can crash here while you sort out the details with the estate agent? Get it done as quickly as you can and then get back. That way you can claim you won't even have time to see your own mother! You probably even think you can take the car."

Harry sucked in a breath as if she'd actually hit him; not just verbally attacked him. He hadn't spoken to her in months, he knew she would have taken Leo's death hard, but he had never expected it would have been this bad. He'd asked Jack how she was and he'd reported that she was functioning as usual at work, if not more dedicated; more consumed by work, but Harry had overestimated the closeness of their relationship. Jack was obviously not privy to the private side of Nikki, Jack just got the same 'I'm in control,' show that everyone else got. He'd never seen any further, not as Harry had. She'd not let Jack see this. Even before Harry had left, she'd usually hid this from him too. She was a mess.

He left her in the hallway and walked into the kitchen. He couldn't stand in that confined space with her, he needed a bit of room. He'd been cramped all night. He filled the kettle with water to make tea, he'd been travelling for hours and this was hardly the reception he'd anticipated. It was as he was pouring the boiled water into the cups he realised something.

"You never got my letter did you?"

He heard drawers banging in the hallway and then she appeared in the kitchen and threw down a pile of envelopes onto the kitchen table.

"It wasn't addressed to me, it was addressed to you. I sent it days ago." How long did snail mail take he wondered. He'd gotten so used to the instant nature of email and texts. Did it still take a week for mail to cross the Atlantic?

He passed Nikki a cup of tea she hadn't asked for and she sat down at her table. She picked up the letter, the one from the letting agency, the one she had opened.

"It say's you're selling your flat," she said in a monotone.

"I am," he affirmed.

Her eyes flashed up again to his and back down to her tea but this time she stayed quiet and didn't cast any aspersions on his parentage.

"I'm selling my flat because I want to buy a house," he began.

"Somewhere nice? Queens? Staten Island? New Jersey?" she interrupted.

"Nikki!" he was really beginning to lose it with her, but he'd also noticed the bottle of pills on the table and recognised the name, so that had further answered the question of how she was. She couldn't have got his letter, or she'd not read it and this one about the sale of his flat would have upset her.

"I'm selling my flat Nikki, because I'm buying a house here in London. I'm not going back to NYU in September, I want to live in London, this is my home. I want to be here." He paused and then added quietly. "I want to be with you."

She looked up at him then, her eyes wide at first and then closing to slits.

"So they fired you then?" she said cruelly disregarding the last statement entirely.

"Nikki!" he shouted, banging the bottle of pills down on the table, at a loss as to what to say. He twirled the bottle in his hand. "Why do you always get these and never take them? Why do you go to the bother? They do help you know."

"How do you know…" she broke off. "They could be a new pot, maybe I just got a refill?"

"Not with a May date on they wouldn't be. Talk to me Nikki. Please? First you're mad because you wanted to talk to me and I wasn't there and now I'm here you can barely even look at me. What was so important that you had to tell me about but now I'm here you can't stand to be near me?" He broke off his own mind whirling as to the reasons that could cause this paradox.

"Oh no!" he exclaimed as he pushed back his chair and moved round to her side of the table grabbing at her left arm and pulling her hand towards him, studying the fingers.

"Harry?" she cried. It was the first time she'd acknowledged him properly. The first time she'd used his name but it sent shivers through Harry's spine for all the wrong reasons.

"It's not got that far then… Where is he?" He paused and looked around for signs that someone other than Nikki was living with her.

"Is he still upstairs? Is that why you're like this? Is he going to wander in here in his underpants at any minute and want to know what the hell is going on and when you're going back to bed?"

"Harry…"

"Or were you expecting him to ring the doorbell. Is that why I got such a great welcome?" he asked sarcastically. "Because you weren't expecting me, you don't want me. You were waiting for someone else. You were expecting someone else. Is that what you wanted to tell me? Tell me that you had finally found someone. Tell me goodbye? My timing is truly appalling." He'd circled the table twice during his little speech, he couldn't believe he'd only been back in the country a couple of hours and here he was back in Nikki's kitchen fighting with her as if he'd never left. Why had he even entertained the notion that they were possible?

"Nikki?" She had her head in her hands, her elbows on the table.

"That's not why," she said.

"What's not why?" Harry babbled unclear for an instant as to what they had been arguing about, he'd been wondering whether he should have gone to Vegas after all. He could have had a string of show girls; they'd be no shortage of one off girls there. What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas and all that…

"I wasn't trying to tell you that I had found someone else."

"You've not?" Harry suddenly stopped circumnavigating the table and sat back in his chair.

"I like your tea," he added after taking another sip. Nikki just shook her head.

"I wanted to Skype you because…" she broke off, but she did look up at him. Her eyes swam with a jumble of emotions; he saw her loneliness, her sadness and her shattered and almost broken spirit.

"You wanted to Skype me, so you could still be the one in control of the conversation," he suggested. It was all about control still. That's why she had an unopened bottle of antidepressants on the kitchen table. She had to be the one in control.

She put her head back in her hands. She would have taken comfort from his presence on the computer, someone she could have shared an edited version of her life with for a few minutes, to experience a sympathetic ear and have an empathetic conversation.

But Harry, in her house, sat at her table that was an entirely different entity. There was no way of sharing just the edited highlights, he was much harder to lie to when he was sat a metre away from her and not just on the laptop screen. With him there, he could respond, he could reach out to her, hold her in his arms and the minute he did she knew the last strappings of control she felt she had on her life would be torn to shreds and she would blow apart, scattered to the four winds just as Leo had been. Leo had known his fate and had smiled and got on with it. She knew her breakdown was inevitable but unlike Leo she was terrified. She was frightened that as soon as she began to talk to Harry she would break apart and she wasn't sure any more that she could trust him to find all the pieces and put her back together again.

"You're staying in London?"

"I'm staying." He affirmed.

"Permanently?"

"Yes."

She took the chance to look up then, across the mugs, across the scattered pile of letters, passed the antidepressants and into his face. He held her gaze, she expected the tears to come but instead of falling apart as she had expected she felt strangely reassured.

"You're not going back?" she whispered.

"I'm not going back," he confirmed and gave her a smile. She didn't return the smile but she didn't look away and the taut lines that furrowed her brow began to relax, they sat motionless just looking at each other until they both jumped out of their seats at the sound of the doorbell.

"Nikki?"

* * *

'**Who's at the door, who's at the door, someone better answer it…Robert get the door.' Harry's left over airplane goodie bag to anyone who can name the show that comes from! Or guesses as to who is at the door will do…**


	29. Chapter 29 And You Haven't?

**Chapter Twenty-Nine**

**Sunday 30****th**** June**

'**And you haven't?'**

Harry was on his feet and at the door before Nikki had even left the table. He could see the outline of a tall man through the glass. She'd denied it, but he'd suspected it and he'd been proved right. Why else would she want to talk to him this weekend when she hadn't for any of the week's previously and then act so strangely? She'd told him there wasn't someone else, but it was definitely a man on the other side of the door.

Maybe that was a good thing, she'd got him so worked up, he was ready for a fight and one of her unsuitables would be as good a punching bag as any.

He opened the door and was surprised to see that the tall man was holding a bag of frozen peas to his forehead with grazed hands, with old bloodstains on his shirt and fresh blood dripping down his face, from a wound hidden under the bag of peas. His other obviously swollen hand gripped the neck of a half empty bottle of vodka. Someone had already given this man a beating far better than Harry could ever manage.

The man certainly wanted Nikki, but not in the way that Harry had been dreading. Perhaps he had been wrong. Maybe she'd been telling the truth.

"Who the F*;# are you?" The hospital case on the doorstep asked. "Nikki!" he called into the house.

"Hello?" Harry said to the man.

"Nikki, I need your help!" the man called out and this time Harry registered the accent. He'd not recognised him from the picture he'd seen but in that one he wasn't covered in blood and bruises. There was only one person who was likely to turn up at Nikki's door on a Sunday afternoon with contusions and an open head wound.

"You must be Jack," Harry stated, he didn't hold out his hand, between the peas and the vodka bottle, Jack didn't have a spare one to shake with.

"Just let me in," Jack insisted and pushed passed Harry and into the house.

Harry closed the door and for a moment felt nostalgic for the insincere American 'hi how're you?' greeting. They might not mean it but at least it was a greeting. This was the second person in under an hour who hadn't even said hello to him. He was beginning to appreciate the gruff hello from the immigration official at the airport.

"So is this a regular event?" Harry asked. "You get your face smashed in and you turn up here expecting Nikki to help you?" Harry hissed as Jack walked past him.

"What and you haven't?"

Harry was left in the hall wondering if Jack had meant that Harry had often got his face smashed in, or if he turned up on a Sunday afternoon needing her help. Maybe the two of them had more in common than he first thought.

"Jack?" Nikki called, finally having moved from the kitchen. "What have you done now?" The sight of blood spurred her into action and she immediately busied herself, collecting cloths and towels and began to mop up the blood, to try and clean and see the extent of the wound.

"Jack, this looks like a knife wound, what were you doing?"

"You know what I was doing," he stared at her then, "And you know why, now can you patch me up or not?"

"Jack, this is a deep wound, you should be at the hospital."

"I was at the hospital most of the night, now can you help or not? I spent hours in A&E, but they won't do anything until the plastics man comes in on Monday, they've given me antibiotics, but I wasn't going to sit and wait until Monday. I couldn't think of what else to do."

"It's half past one on a Sunday afternoon? What have you been doing in between?" Harry asked.

"I took the Circle Line here."

"How many times? You must have been riding round for hours."

"I might have done a complete circuit…"

"Are you concussed? Is that why they wanted to keep you at the hospital?" Nikki asked.

"Drunk or concussed, maybe they'd have figured out which if I'd stayed longer," he took another swig from his bottle.

"What do you want Jack?"

"I need you to stitch me up, Nikki. I can't face waiting til Monday to get this fixed. You can do it can't you?"

Nikki stepped back and stared at him. With the old blood washed off his face it didn't look quite so bad, but it wasn't pretty. "The hospital is right Jack, it's your face, the plastics man or woman would do a better job."

Harry peered over Nikki's shoulder. "You've opened up a previously stitched cut I think, it must hurt." Jack shrugged and offered his vodka bottle to Harry.

"S'not that bad at the moment,"

"Stitching it is going to hurt like…" Harry continued.

"I know, she's done it before," Jack replied nonchalantly and rolled up his sleeve to show off Nikki's handiwork on his upper arm.

"That was your arm Jack and at the time we didn't have a choice; this is your face, it's right above your eye. It's going to leave a scar." Nikki insisted.

"Ah, it adds character," Jack said dismissively, "Now are you going to do it or not?"

Nikki looked back at Harry and then to Jack.

"Put the ice back on it and keep drinking," she said and went to fetch her kit.

"Does it make you feel better?" Harry asked when the two men were alone.

"What?"

"The boxing, fighting, whatever it is you do?"

"It's a pure moment," Jack said with sudden clarity. "There is nothing else in your mind at the time; it's peaceful in a way."

Harry coughed to cover a guffaw. How could getting beaten to a pulp be peaceful he wondered. But he did understand about being lost in the moment. There were times when he had been singing with Jorge and Beto and by concentrating on the song, on the music all the worries and burdens in his life did disappear in that moment. Singing seemed a lot less dangerous than boxing, but it was hardly the macho option. He wondered what Nikki thought about it all.

Harry watched her sterilise her equipment. He could see her chewing her lower lip.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Harry asked as he noticed her hands trembling. He knew she would do anything to help a friend, he knew how she worked but he'd also seen that crushing exhaustion that had consumed and debilitated her; the one that had been the cause of most of their argument. Their conversation before Jack had arrived had made it clear that she was not, however much she wanted to be, in total control.

"Do you want me to stitch him?" Harry asked.

Nikki's eyes snapped up to his wondering if he really would or if he was just being polite.

"What's taking so long?" moaned Jack. "It'll start dripping all over my face again, if you're not quick."

"Keep drinking," Harry shouted back and Jack did as he was told.

"It's been a while but my stitching has always been good."

"It's true," Nikki affirmed. "You did always have the neatest stitching. Even Leo used to comment on it."

He noticed her lip tremble as soon as she had said Leo's name. They hadn't even got that far in their conversation.

"Please," he said. "Let me do it." He took the needle from her hand, brushing the back of it as he did so. This time she didn't look down at the floor, and she didn't pull her hand away from him. For the first time since walking through her front door Harry felt the tiniest hope that he was doing the right thing.

"Jack, Harry's stitching's better than mine, do you mind if he does it?"

"Just as long as someone stops the rest of my blood from pouring out of my head and does it soon I don't give it a F*#;" Jack called back.

"You realise this is going to hurt!"

"Bring it on," laughed Jack.

* * *

**No more for a week or so, but you've had extra this week my lovelies. Thanks for reading.**


	30. Chapter 30 To Us

**So apologies for the long wait, and only one chapter today…but it is a long one. Forgive me? Thanks for the super efficient reviewers last time, all within 40 minutes of posting...you are awesome.**

* * *

**Chapter Thirty**

**Sunday 30****th**** June**

The stitching finished they both helped Jack to his feet and laid him on the bed in Nikki's spare room to sleep it off. The room hadn't changed since the last time Harry had been there nearly a year ago. Nikki pulled off Jack's boots and closed the curtains. Harry went back to the kitchen to bring him a glass of water.

"I don't know how he did that?" Harry commented when they had tidied the mess and sat down again. "He didn't make a sound."

"Jack's tough." Nikki agreed.

Harry looked at her to see if he could read an extra meaning into her phrase. She thought Jack was tough, but did that mean she thought he was weak?

"He's been good to me since Leo died," Nikki continued. She paused obviously deep in thought.

"Did YOU ask him to leave the chocolate bars?" she asked suddenly remembering that Harry had done the same thing, years before.

Harry hesitated and then nodded.

"I didn't know what else to do Nikki. You wouldn't return any of my calls. I was worried about you. I knew you wouldn't be eating properly. I am really sorry I didn't make it back for the funeral."

"So you've said," she said more coolly. "If you were leaving anyway, why didn't you just take the time off and screw the consequences?"

Harry thought for a while, she had a good point but he hadn't been sure at that point that he was leaving.

"I wasn't planning on leaving then," he admitted.

"So what changed your mind? You have a falling out with Candy?"

"You could say that…" Harry trailed off.

"I knew there was something there," Nikki crowed.

"Nikki, there was never anything there on my part."

"So there was on hers?" Nikki questioned.

"Candy didn't like people saying no to her, I was just a challenge."

"So she asked and you did turn her down?" Her eyes flashed up to his for an instant then.

Harry nodded. "Candy represented everything that was rotten about the American Dream, the selfishness, the greed, the power lust, the disregard for anything or anyone other than yourself and those in a position to help you. I didn't like it, I didn't like her. It wasn't me Nikki. I didn't fit there. It wasn't my dream."

"But the job was such a good one!"

"A job's a job Nikki, it was just a job it wasn't my life. It wasn't what I wanted my life to be."

"But what actually happened then in the last three and a half weeks?"

"A lot's happened; the whole department got investigated for fraud…"

"Harry!"

"I got disciplined for taking time to help Mrs Finkelstein when she collapsed one Saturday…"

"Harry? Is she alright?" Nikki asked, remembering the old woman with fondness.

"She's fine, just got a bit of sunstroke, it's a long story."

"Oh,"

"And I learned how it felt to be left behind."

"Harry…" this time Nikki's voice was quieter, calmer. "So you've come back?"

Harry shook his head and Nikki felt the tears prickle, the ones that so far she had kept at bay.

"I've not come back, I've moved to England and I'm going to do something new."

"You're what?" Nikki sounded disbelieving now.

"It was Leo's idea really." Harry admitted. He heard Nikki's rough intake of air when he mentioned Leo again. "We have to talk about Leo," Harry insisted.

"I can't Harry," Nikki cried her voice wobbling.

"Then you'll have to listen," he continued calmly. "You are aware than I'm an executor of Leo's will."

She looked up at him, confusion playing across her face. Harry began again. This conversation would have been so much easier had she read the letter first, he'd written everything so carefully.

"After Theresa's death, when you had only just joined the team, Leo made me an executor of his will. We talked about it the last time I spoke to him just before you all went to Afghanistan. I didn't know the contents of the will, but I did know his wishes for his funeral and worked with Francis on the details of the service and burial. I made sure Leo was kept at the Lyell for as long as possible for you and that the undertakers did the best they could for him. The solicitor has since sent me a copy of the will and I have to advise the beneficiaries."

"I know what an executor does," Nikki interrupted brusquely.

"That's what I put in the letter you haven't got yet. Nikki, Leo has left his monetary assets in a trust to benefit disadvantaged students at LSSE, to fund a scholarship programme and some more to other charities, his cousin has a nominal gift but his physical assets, his house, his car, his books, his belongings all those he left to us."

"What do you mean to us?"

"I mean that when probate is granted we will become the joint owners of Leo's house, car and anything else in there."

"We? We will own his house?"

Harry nodded. Nikki pushed her chair back from the table.

"Oh now I get it," she said calmly. "Now I know what this is all about."

"Nikki?" Harry was puzzled. He thought she'd be pleased at the news, she'd seemed much calmer in the last few minutes. Leo's house wasn't massive but its location would mean it would be worth half a million at the very least and probably a lot more. Nikki was looking like he'd just kicked her in the shins. She walked over to him and put her face up close to his.

"So this new venture of yours, you're here to get your hands on my share of the money are you? Buy me out? Expect me to loan you my share until you're on your feet. Or are you just selling your flat and planning on moving straight in to Leo's! Is that why you're here? Is that why you're back? Is that what you found out in the last three and a half weeks? You bastard! I think you'd better go!"

She stood back to allow him access to the door her eyes glowing with rage.

"Nikki, you've got it all wrong," he began.

"Save it… I don't want to hear it. Just get out!"

"Is there a problem?" asked Jack, his tall form appearing in the doorway.

"No, no problem at all. Harry was just leaving weren't you?" Nikki said.

"Erm yes," he stood but he didn't move. He could feel Jack staring at him, bunching and unbunching his injured fists and Nikki glaring at the table.

"I heard you were leaving," Jack growled threateningly.

"Well?" she said.

Harry looked down at the mess of envelopes still over her kitchen table and started pushing them around.

"What is it?" she cried.

"I think you said you had my new bank card?" he replied.

Nikki picked up the pile of mail and thrust it into his hands.

"Go!"

"We do have to talk about this," Harry repeated calmly. He wasn't even close to losing his temper with her. Not this time, all those months of dealing with Candy, he wasn't going to lose it over a little hissy fit like this. "I'm not here to rip you off. I promise." He wanted to touch her hand, make her understand that he wasn't her father or any of the other losers who had ripped her off and lied to her in the past. "Please?"

"Not now though," she replied her voice softening slightly.

Harry looked at his bags in the hallway; he wasn't looking forward to dragging those across town to either his mother's or Leo's.

"Just take what you need and leave the rest in the spare room," Nikki stated exasperatedly. She'd wanted him gone, out of her face, but she couldn't seem even to manage that now. Harry picked up a case and Jack wheeled the other one whilst Nikki paced about her kitchen having second, third and fourth thoughts about what she had just said and done.

"I'll be off too then," Jack said genially from the doorway having reappeared. Harry was close behind with his hand luggage and a smaller rucksack that must have been in one of the cases.

"I'll see you tomorrow Jack," Nikki said.

"Thanks for the help," Jack replied.

"I'll be at my mother's or Leo's," Harry said even though Nikki hadn't asked where he was going. "I have to start to sort through his things. It would be a help if you could pop in after work some days too; it's your stuff as much as mine." Harry suggested.

"You left me on my own at the funeral," Nikki retorted thunderously. "I shouldn't have had to have done that by myself."

"You didn't," Harry answered. "You had Jack, my mother was there and I'd done all the ground work with Francis, the coroner and undertakers. Emptying the house Nikki, it's not a job that should be done alone. Not when it belongs to the two of us."

"Don't you dare tell me what it's like to empty someone's house," she said darkly.

"I'm sorry Nikki," Harry said hastily. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that. It's just I'm really not looking forward to it and I have no right to get rid of something that is just as much yours as mine."

"I'll see," she said sullenly.

Jack opened the door and let Harry through.

"Bye Nikki, see you tomorrow. Thanks."

"Bye Jack," she replied. She watched them walk down the path, "Oh and Jack?"

"Yes?"

"You're not going to punch Harry in the face the minute I shut this door are you?"

"The face?" Jack questioned innocently. He looked back to see Nikki's hard stare.

"Now why would I do something like that?" Jack asked. "You've only just cleaned up my knuckles."

"Jack!" she called warningly.

"So you just vetoed punching him in the face. Are there other places that are OK?"

"Jack!" she shouted again.

"Spoilsport!" called back Jack.

"Aguafiestas!" muttered Harry with an ironic grin.

"Pardon?" Jack asked. "I can't make an enemy of him," he called back over his shoulder. "You said he did the best stitching, I may need him again."

"I'm all out of suture thread," she shouted down the path.

"I'll get Clarissa to order some for you," he replied cheekily.

Harry didn't turn round but he did smile. She must still care about him a tiny bit despite all she had said today. Turning up out of the blue like that would have been a shock, especially as she had seen that letter about his flat being for sale. It would take a while for anyone to adjust and she hadn't received his letter. It was obvious to him too that she was far from well.

"Thanks for stitching me up Professor." Jack said.

"It's Harry now; just Harry."

"Same time next week then?" Jack asked. "I'll need your number."

Harry rolled his eyes and shook his head and walked off in the direction of the tube. He noticed Jack veer off in the opposite direction, maybe he lived close by, or maybe he was still too drunk to remember the way to the underground station. Harry hoped he wasn't supposed to escort him to the tube, he'd had enough of company for a while and he'd only been back in the country a couple of hours.


	31. Chapter 31 Prawn Crackers

**Chapter Thirty One**

**Sunday 30****th**** June**

**Prawn Crackers**

Harry wasn't ready to go to his mother's yet. He'd spoken to her before he left New York and had told her he wouldn't be with her until at least eight. He had let her think that was the time it would take after his flight arrived; he didn't need to go into more detail. He wanted some time to be by himself first, to just be in London. To feel at home before going home. He was looking forward to it now; he was hoping the greeting would be warmer than the one he'd received at Nikki's

It felt good to ride round on the tube, reacquaint himself with the city. The trains weren't busy, no one spoke to him, no one made eye contact, no one looked as if they might suddenly pull a gun or knife on him and despite it being hot down the tunnels it was nothing compared to the heat and humidity of the New York subway. He'd walked to Leo's house. He couldn't pick up the key until he'd seen the solicitor. There was a spare one at the Lyell, or there used to be a spare at the Lyell, but he had no right of access there anymore. It felt odd to be outside Leo's house, knowing that Leo wasn't in. That he wasn't even at the Lyell. That he had gone. He'd known of course from the minute he'd received that phone call from Nikki. But stood in front of his house it felt like a confirmation, a conclusion of sorts. Maybe he should have tried harder to have gone to the funeral.

"I miss you Leo," he said quietly his mood becoming more sombre.

He'd go up to Sheffield as soon as he'd got a car sorted. See the grave and take Leo's cousin Francis out for a pint or dinner.

Maybe Nikki would come with him. Maybe that would help them to start talking again.

He looked in estate agents windows along the high street and spoke to the ones that were open. Blackheath was too far out of London for what he wanted. They'd made a variety of suggestions. Had he considered a shop? There were plenty of those that were currently empty.

He carried on walking. He'd been thinking about his grand plan on the plane. If he was going to be working by himself for the foreseeable future he would need to do something else collaboratively. If his time at the Lyell and in New York had taught him anything it was that he did his best work and he enjoyed himself most when he was part of a team. He would need to find something he could do with others.

He'd loved singing with Beto and Jorge but he would never match that experience. He could join a gospel choir, that would be closest, but it wouldn't be the same and he knew the religious bit would irritate him. He needed something completely different. More of the same would just remind him of what he'd given up.

He strolled along the side of the Thames and watched the pleasure boats. In some respects it felt as if he'd never been away. The river was just as it had always been, grey/brown with an unsightly conglomeration of litter, mud and detritus at the tide line. This river wasn't pretending to be something that it wasn't, not like the constant posing and exhibitionism of New York. It just was. He walked on further until his way was blocked by a line of rowing eights and a boat house. He'd enjoyed rowing at university. It was an insane time of the morning to get up and go out on the river but it was a great start to the day and it stood him in good stead for his medical residency. He walked over to the boat house and enquired about club membership.

Rowing would certainly fit what he was looking for. He'd spend time with other people with a common purpose; the conversation never need go further than social pleasantries because once he started rowing there would be no spare breath for chit chat. It would give him a reason to get out of bed and he'd get the first look at the river to check for floaters. It could be great for business. He noted with interest that there were a number of teams for a variety of abilities. He was less pleased to see he'd be classified as an 'old boy' if he joined.

He took the tube back to his old flat and walked through the park and looked up at his old house. He felt more sentimental about Leo's house than his own flat. Or maybe it was Leo and nothing to do with the house. He was getting tired, his time clock was screwed but he did know he felt hungry. His watch said six thirty, so he carried on across the park towards Mr Li's.

The high street had changed, the estate agent had been right. There were plenty of empty shops and little cafes. The Blockbuster had gone, the HMV store, the Millets. Even one of the Starbuck's had disappeared. Instead there were a motley variety of charity shops, pound stores and boarded up frontages. His mood became gloomier. Starting again from scratch here wasn't going to be easy. New York was always vibrant and exciting; his old high street was mundane, ugly and rather depressing.

He rifled through his bag and found his new cash card and checked the balance on his account. He had left some money in it whilst he'd been away. The transfer of his American assets hadn't completed yet. It was just moving numbers on a computer and yet the bank made sure to take their cut because of dealing with a foreign currency plus their administration fees and it took nearly a week for the transfer to complete; schiesters! Only the post office took longer with vital information.

He began to remember all the niggles; all the pomposity and red tape that had driven him away from England in the first place. Everything that had combined to make him leave. His reception at Nikki's had upset him. He knew it wasn't going to be a Disneyesque ending but he'd not expected the genre to be horror/psychodrama. She'd made her displeasure clear. The only time they were civil to each other was when they were working together to patch Jack up. Then they had slipped back into the old routine as if they'd never been apart.

How could she accuse him of wanting to take her share of the money for his own purposes?

Is that what she really thought of him? He'd been pleased he'd kept his temper at the time but now he wondered if it wouldn't have been better to have shouted back. Tell her how ungrateful she was being, how rude her accusations were. His mood worsened. Had he made another mistake? Should he have stuck it out? Even the Nevada desert seemed more hospitable to him.

He stopped and looked at the shop in front of him. He never remembered there being a Tesco Metro on his high street before. He walked on a store front or two and then back and then stood still staring at the gaudy red, white and blue Tesco logo.

He felt his chest go tight and then his body rocked with a choking cough. He stepped back and leaned against a cold metal bike rack just as his legs buckled underneath him. All the excitement he'd felt about starting over in London drained out of him and the exhaustion of the last few weeks overwhelmed him.

"You alright love?" he heard in a grating but welcome London accent.

"I'll be fine," he wheezed. He waved her off.

"You don't look fine." She replied and stayed put.

"Would you mind," he gasped out when he looked up and saw her staring at him. "If I borrowed your phone?"

She looked nervous then, her instinct to help the man in trouble had made her open her mouth before even considering what she was doing, but handing over her phone left her open and vulnerable.

"Please, I need to call my friend; she'll come and pick me up. That's all. I'll give it straight back. I promise."

The stranger handed over her phone and despite the lapse of time Harry punched in a still familiar number.

"Please pick up," he begged into the ringing phone.

"Nikki Alexander,"

"Nikki, it's me," Harry said.

"Harry?"

"Why has Mr Li's turned into a Tesco?" he cried unable to stop the pain in his voice or the tears from dripping down his face.

"Harry are you there?" Nikki asked.

"I'm outside where Mr Li's should be; where's it gone? Everything's different. It's all ruined!"

"Stay there, I'll come get you." She said authoritatively and then realised that she'd already picked up her bag and slipped on her shoes.

Harry handed the woman back her phone.

"Thanks," he said scraping a hand over his face in a vain attempt to remove his tears.

"S'alright love. Take it easy now. That restaurant's been gone for months."

It was ridiculous he thought to himself in the last couple of months he'd lost his friend and mentor, faced disciplinary hearings at work, left his job, left his apartment and adopted country, left his hobby and his singing amigos, and all but Leo's death had left him relatively unaffected. Why was he stood outside a Tesco metro falling apart about the loss of a Chinese takeaway? Especially one that had only mediocre black bean sauce?

He'd forgotten that Nikki drove his old car. He hadn't even registered it outside her house earlier in the afternoon. Maybe it had been parked further up the street.

"Get in!" she called pulling up to the kerb and pushing the passenger door open for him.

"Thanks Nikki." He replied sinking into the familiar leather seat.

"I was hungry…" he began to explain. "It's been a long…" actually he couldn't remember when he'd slept last, he'd caught a late night flight out of New York. It was probably the day before yesterday.

"Do you remember the Afghan place?" Nikki asked.

Harry stared across at her, he was tired and confused; he didn't feel well. He'd not gone to Afghanistan with her.

"The restaurant!" Nikki clarified, giving him a quick sideways glance.

"The Helmand?" Harry asked his brain searching for what she was talking about.

"Yes, unfortunate name, business couldn't have been great; it shut down and Mr Li moved in there. It's closer to the station and has space to dine in."

"So Mr Li's hasn't shut?" Harry asked, his mood finally lifting.

"No, it just moved round the corner," Nikki affirmed.

Harry ran his hand over his face again.

"I'm sorry Nikki. Sorry to do this to you. I just… It was a shock… It's… Thanks for coming to get me."

"It's grief," Nikki declared. She continued to drive but she felt herself begin to relax, somehow not being the only one crippled by grief was a comfort to her. A shared solidarity with the man who had once been so important to her.

They sat in silence, Harry grateful that she'd rescued him.

"I'm sorry about what I said earlier," she began.

"I'm sorry too," Harry replied. "I shouldn't have just turned up like that, it was stupid. Sorry."

"But you are staying?" Nikki asked quietly as she pulled off the road and into a car park, daring to hope that perhaps in time he would become important to her again.

"I'm staying." Harry agreed.

She climbed out of the car and beeped it locked. He walked around the car and stood next to her. "There!" she said pointing across the road. "Happy now?" Her hand brushed against his as she let it fall back to her side.

Harry hesitated and then took hold of her hand tentatively. He looked into her face.

"I think so?" it was more of a question than a statement.

"Welcome back Harry," she said giving his hand a squeeze but not meeting his gaze and then letting go of it and staring back at the restaurant as if it were the most interesting sight in the world.

"Thanks," he replied.

"Come on," she smiled. "Let's see if Mr Li gets the flags out for you? We should at the least get free prawn crackers.

* * *

**Sorry it's been so long, and thanks for all of you still reading. We are on the downhill stretch now, I promise. Dedicated to High Streets everywhere and not to big corporations that move in and steal your local Chinese not that I'm bitter you understand…**


	32. Chapter 32 Stop Looking At The Dirt

**Chapter Thirty Two**

**Sunday 30****th**** June**

**Stop looking at the dirt**

Once inside the restaurant, after Mr Li had finished making a fuss of them, they sat in awkward silence waiting for their meal to arrive.

"So you said something about fraud?" Nikki began in an effort to break the deadlock.

"Yes, do you remember me talking to you about the mark scheme I was given to use?"

"Not really," she replied.

"Oh." There wasn't much Harry could add if she'd not remembered. He watched her playing with her glass, swilling her free drink around and around. She may have asked the question but she wasn't really listening to him.

"I could have got my boss in big trouble."

"Some things don't change," she said idly.

"But I didn't."

"Oh." They were at another impasse.

"So you decided to come back."

"No, I decided to move on."

To Harry's relief, the food began to arrive. But the conversation over the meal was more awkward than before. Nikki was right; Mr Li did make a fuss of them, they had free drinks and free prawn crackers but despite his jollity the mood between them was definitely in a minor rather than a major key. There had been too much said in anger that morning, too much change and too much time passed for them to slip comfortably back into their old easy friendship. Nikki concentrated on looking at her food rather than look up at Harry.

She made a good show of eating, but Harry could tell she wasn't used to it.

"You've not been eating properly," he said jabbing a pork ball with his chop sticks and pushing the plate towards her to encourage her to eat more.

"No I've not," she said simply.

Harry ate for a while more. She hadn't lied to him. She hadn't said 'I'm fine, or I have, or none of your business,' it was a good answer. Maybe if they were able to talk honestly about the small things the day would come when they could talk honestly about the really big things. He could see the lines on her brow were more prominent, the dark circles under her eyes. Even her hair had seemed to have lost its usual shine, just as their friendship had been tarnished by their pain and separation.

"I don't want your share of Leo's house," he reiterated.

"I know," she replied. "I think I was in shock too."

"You had every right to be. I really am sorry."

"How's Jorge?" she asked after nibbling on a prawn cracker.

"He's gone to Las Vegas."

"For a holiday?"

"Nope," Harry said with a grin, happy for his friend and happy that they had finally found a non-threatening, mutually agreeable topic of conversation. "He's been asked to do a big show at one of the casino's there."

"For real?"

"Oh yes, for real! He's been emailing me photos of them both all over town at all the landmarks. He's having a ball!"

"Beto went with him!"

"Yep, just chucked in his job and went." Harry paused. "They wanted me to go too."

It was Nikki's turn to smile then. "Why didn't you?"

"Well I'd chucked my job in at that point, I had no right to stay and work there…"

"Why didn't you go with them?" she repeated.

Harry thought back to her earlier answer. Her honest no frills answer. What could he say: he didn't belong in Vegas, he wanted to come home, he needed to be in London, he wanted to be in London, he wanted to be with her?

"I wanted to be here with you," he said boldly.

"Good job Mr Li's hadn't shut down altogether then," she replied deliberately misconstruing his words.

"You know that's not what I meant," Harry said but instead of it being a genial reproof he could hear more and more dissonant notes in the tune they were composing between them. A waiter arrived to clear their plates providing a welcome rest from the stress of the conversation.

"What's does your fortune cookie recommend?" he asked to change the subject.

Nikki cracked open the shell and pulled out her paper. They had sat in restaurants like this and in their houses on many occasions over the years together but Nikki was remembering their time together in New York, sat comparing fortune cookies, all smiles and contentment. This was a very different affair. Back then she'd have made up a silly response: you will find a surprise at your front door, a great fortune awaits you, an old friend is of more worth than gold. But today the discordance between them would mute the humour. Instead she read what was actually on the paper.

"When you look down, all you see is dirt. Keep on looking up."

Harry shrugged and read his, "Do not be covered in sadness or fooled by happiness, both must exist."

Harry signalled the waiter for the bill.

"I can pay," Nikki began reaching for her handbag.

"I still owe you for that taxi fare," Harry said. "I'll get this."

"Thanks."

"Do you want me to drive you to your mother's?" Nikki asked.

Harry sat back in his chair. He was tired now and there was nothing he would like more than Nikki to drive him across town to his mother's. But if Nikki drove him back, his mother was bound to ask her in and there were all sorts of questions he wasn't ready to face. He had tried to explain his reasons for leaving New York and setting up his own business but he was sure she hadn't really understood. He really wasn't ready to have the conversation with his mother in Nikki's presence, or in fact the conversation about his intentions with respect to Nikki that his mother was bound to initiate.

"It's a nice evening, I think I'll take the train," he suggested.

He saw the relief flicker across Nikki's face. She would have been happy to have driven him but she wasn't ready to be social either.

"Do you want me to bring your bags over to Leo's?" Nikki asked.

"Would you mind?"

"I don't want them in my spare room forever if that's what you're asking?"

"It wasn't. But yes, I'll stay at Mum's tonight and then she can take me to the solicitor tomorrow, sort out the keys, I'll have to get a new phone or contract or something, I'll let you know the number. I've got enough clothes to last until Wednesday." He said tapping his bag.

"I'll drop your bags off one day after work then," she said.

Harry went to shake Mr Li's hand as they left the restaurant and compliment him on the new place. Nikki stood in the doorway waiting for him.

"I'll see you in the week then," Harry said. He didn't quite know what the situation required, he couldn't shake her hand that would be too formal, but he couldn't kiss her either so instead he did nothing. "Thanks for coming to rescue me."

"No problem," Nikki said, staring back down at the pavement. "Thanks for dinner."

"Hey, you're fortune cookie told you to stop looking at the dirt," he said.

She looked up into his face then, Harry could see the tears swimming in her eyes. She'd thought for one moment that morning that she was beginning to get a grip back on life but now Harry was back and suddenly her world was seemingly spinning out of control again.

"I'm sorry Nikki."

One tear began to run down Nikki's cheek and without even thinking Harry reached out and wiped it away with his thumb.

"Do you know what for?" she asked.

"For everything."

"It wasn't all your fault."

"No but plenty was," he added.

They stood in silence for a moment. Nikki had gone back to focusing on his shoulder and Harry was looking at the dirt, stuck not knowing what to say, or how to leave.

"Welcome home," she said after the interminable silence, with as much of a smile as she could manage.

"Thanks," he replied desperately fighting the urge to pull her against him for a hug and wishing for their old dynamic to come back. "It's good to be home. I'll see you in the week."

She crossed the road back to her car and Harry walked briskly up the street in the direction of the station. Happiness and sadness; you had to have both he thought. Somehow though, his scales seemed to be weighted on the sadness side. Wasn't it time he caught a break? It was certainly time she did.

* * *

**Hav****e a suspicion that this one may have originally been written at the time of my son's music exam, you only get marks for scoring 8 or above on the musical references!**


	33. Chapter 33 When Did He Call You?

**Chapter Thirty-Three**

**Monday 1****st**** July**

**When did he call you?**

Nikki had been glad of her natural causes. The elderly gentleman she'd spent most of the morning with her hands inside had suffered nothing more than a heart attack. The police had their suspicions, but there was nothing suspicious about the evidence she'd found and Nikki was glad. She had been able to work undistracted and in silence and with no nasty surprises for once.

It hadn't stopped her mind from wandering though.

Harry was back, and yet even in the few hours she had spent with him she could see a difference. There was something more about him, not more American… but more…. She wasn't sure, it wasn't more accomplished, he'd always been that, nor better mannered; he'd always been the perfect gentleman, too much of a gentleman at times she thought with regret.

He was more independent, is that what it was? He was certainly more self-assured. Time was if she'd yelled at him to get out, he'd have yelled back or stomped off like a teenager. Yesterday he had stood his ground and left on his own terms. He seemed to have a clear purpose and direction to his life now whereas before he'd always seemed slightly lost; someone that required her pity. Not anymore; this Harry was stronger, more dynamic and prepared to go after the things he wanted. She liked the change and couldn't help a small smile appearing on her lips, despite her tiredness. But the smile didn't last, the pain he had caused due to his absence at Leo's funeral consumed it as quickly as it appeared.

But then there was his collapse outside the mini Tesco. He may have acquired a North American confidence but he hadn't acquired their brashness and heartlessness. He was almost in tears over the loss of a take-away, although just as he had, she had realised his breakdown wasn't anything to do with megalomaniacal empire building supermarkets. The change had just highlighted another loss he hadn't wished to experience. He must still felt loss keenly, if it had such an effect on him. He'd not changed that much. But she couldn't understand why he hadn't come back earlier.

Harry had gone to the US he'd claimed because she'd pushed him away and there was no way he could achieve what he wanted to achieve (if he even knew what that was and frankly she doubted he did at the time) stuck in the Lyell for the rest of his life. He'd moved to give her the space to find someone worthy of her, someone who could love her the way he'd said he wanted to but at the time never could. He'd moved to get on with his life and he had. So why had he come back? And why now?

She'd been cruel to him yesterday. He had accepted her apology when they'd had dinner together that evening but her behaviour had been awful. She knew it was petty wanting to make him suffer just as she had done but she couldn't help herself. It was the only way she knew how to be strong, to fight back. She'd had to do it her whole life and she would not be a doormat, he wasn't going to march back into her life and walk all over her. He'd left, it had been his choice and they'd both moved on. But that didn't mean she couldn't be cordial to him.

She'd take his bags over to Leo's this evening and see how he was. She was glad to see him despite the anger he provoked, the anger had only been part of her life for a couple of months, Harry had been part of her life for years. He'd said he wanted her help clearing Leo's house. She'd been there once on her own and hated it. Harry wouldn't like it any more than she did. Maybe she should go?

That didn't mean that she had forgiven him for the funeral though. He'd apologised but it wasn't enough.

How could he have missed it?

When he had told her his reason for returning in the restaurant yesterday, he could have cited trouble at NYU, homesickness, the opportunity to start his own business. But he hadn't said any of those.

"I wanted to be here with you," had been his answer. He'd not deflected the question. He'd not made a joke, he'd not changed the subject. He wanted to be here with her. She was the one who had deliberately misconstrued it.

So if that was true why hadn't he been there when she needed him? She was just so angry still and until his return there had been no one to be angry with.

"You alright?" Jack asked as he watched her rub her eyes and stare at her computer.

"Hmm, me?" Nikki replied.

"I'm not seeing anyone else in that chair I'm asking?" Jack retorted. "Harry did a good job," he added touching the wound over his eye.

"You can't tell that 'til the swellings gone down."

"So, are you going to see him?" Jack asked.

She wondered how Jack knew where her mind had been wandering to. "Do I need your permission?" Nikki looked across at her co-worker. What was it about her male colleagues at the Lyell? She wondered if Leo had written it into their contracts: 'look out for Nikki.' With Harry and Leo gone the gauntlet had fallen to Jack.

"No, I was just asking. Just being friendly."

"When did he call you?"

"Who?"

"Harry,"

"When did Harry call me?"

"Yes, how long ago did Harry call you about this?"

"About what?"

"I know he told you to leave the chocolate. How long ago was it?"

"A while ago, after we got back, I don't really remember too well." Jack blustered; he knew she could tell he was lying.

"So right from the start then?"

"Pretty much," Jack admitted. So the gauntlet hadn't really been passed on. Jack putting milk in her fridge, leaving her chocolate bars and driving her about was still all Harry's doing. It was all Harry's doing, he was just doing it the only way he could.

"Thanks," Nikki said.

"What for?"

"Looking out for me, doing what Harry asked. Not punching him in the face yesterday…"

"I wasn't even close to…" Jack began but Nikki held her hand up.

"I'm going home, I've done all I need to," she said and shut down her computer.

"Say thanks to Harry for me," Jack called out as she walked out of the office door.

##

Her idea had been for a shower and change her clothes before going out again, she'd forgotten all about the letter Harry had supposedly written. But there it was waiting for her when she got home, postmarked from the week before. Everything was in it, a long apology and his reasons for missing the funeral, a summary of Leo's last wishes, all the events that had conspired to make up Harry's mind to leave NYU, an outline of what he planned to do in London and a newspaper cutting of Jorge's Vegas opening night. He'd even written that he hoped over time that they would be able to repair their damaged relationship.

She'd told him that weekend in New York that she didn't like being a mind reader and he had taken it to heart. It was a five page manifesto on what he wanted from his new business and how much he wanted her to be part of his life again.

Her tears seemed endless. Not a day had gone by since she had been in Afghanistan where she hadn't spent some portion of it crying but somehow today the tears felt different. There was a touch of relief, a newfound hope where hope had never been before. She wasn't an idiot she knew it would take them time to be rebuild their shattered relationship. But the single fact that there was a forward, there was a future and that she had something to hope for planted some grain of trust, a tiny speck of love that perhaps could be nurtured back to life and strength.

She wasn't ready today. Not yet, but she would at least take Harry his bags.

She loaded them into her car, sat in the driver's seat with key in hand and then had second thoughts.

She couldn't go over to Leo's, she couldn't.

She couldn't spend the evening with Harry; she wasn't ready.

She was frightened.

She was so tired.

She turned the key in the ignition and set off.

##

Harry didn't answer the doorbell and so it was with relief that she used the Lyell key to let herself in and leave his bags in the hallway.

It would be obvious that she had been there and dropped off his bags. Maybe he'd gone back to his mother's? She was driving him around today. She slipped quietly into the kitchen, thinking she'd leave him a note when she heard a noise from the sitting room.

"Harry?" she called quietly.

She checked her watch, it was 6:15 on a July evening. It was hardly burgling prime time.

"Harry?" she called again as she carefully peered around the door.

Harry was fast asleep in an armchair; one hand drooped over the edge, his head back and snoring. She couldn't help but give a small chuckle.

"Mum's that you?" Harry slurred in his sleep.

"No, it's Nikki, I dropped off your bags."

"Hmm, Nikki," he mumbled again but still without properly waking. "I like Nikki. Must get her to like me again," he shifted in the chair.

"Wouldn't you be more comfortable in the bed?"

"Nikki's not in my bed," he replied.

It was clear Harry wasn't going to wake up; she knew how precious sleep was and so was loathe to wake him. She didn't know what to say to him anyway. She thought she'd better leave a note but she wasn't sure what to say there. 'I left your bags for you,' that would be obvious; he would have walked past them on the way to the kitchen. Her pen hovered over the paper and instead she wrote: 'I got your letter' and let herself out.

In all that had happened in the past year neither of them suspected that by going away to move on and find something new, that Harry himself would move on and become something new. And that this new thing was the man that Harry had always wanted to be and the man that Nikki had always wanted.

* * *

**Free prawn crackers to the 100****th**** reviewer. It could be you!**


	34. Chapter 34 Tick Tock

**Congratulations to HesitantHedgehog on her free choice from Mr Li's extensive menu, (which does now include a side order of Harry) for being reviewer number 100. And thanks to everyone who reviewed; a bumper crop on the last set: KiwiSWfan, greylostwho, Baibe, LCOddy97, Hesitant Hedgehog and Freya 82, you're all brilliant.**

* * *

**Chapter Thirty-Four**

**Tuesday July 2****nd****.**

'**Tick tock'**

Harry had no recollection of Nikki leaving his bags for him. But she must have been there. The only way it could have happened was if she had dropped them off in the dead of night, which was unlikely but knowing Nikki not impossible; or when he'd fallen asleep in the early evening. He was trying to sort out the jetlag, but somehow the journey east seemed to make adjusting much worse than when heading west. Even the pills he had didn't seem to be helping. He had been shocked he'd not heard her though; the house could have been burgled whilst he slept in that chair and he'd never have known, he knew he'd left the back door wide open. Every fool knew that most burglaries happened during the day.

He was pleased to see her note though. She'd read the letter, it would go a long way to reassure her of his intentions.

Going home and being made a fuss of by his mother had soothed much of the tension of that Sunday. Not that her greeting had been much more favourable than Nikki's.

As soon as his she had opened the door to him on Sunday night, Anne knew where he'd been. Arriving with only hand luggage after a year away was a give-away.

"If you're not planning on staying; stay away!" she'd warned.

"I am staying, Mum."

"Does she understand that?"

He'd shaken his head. "It's not going to be easy, Mum."

"Nothing worth having ever is," she'd retorted and pulled him into a hug that he had to crouch to receive. He was accepted here despite his faults it reminded him of the friends he'd left behind.

The solicitor Harry had seen with his mother had been helpful, she'd given Harry a generic check list of things to do, not all of which applied but it gave him a framework to start from. There were three charities on the Leo's list that were going to receive significant sums of money after the paperwork had been completed. The majority was going to the student fund at LSSE, and a new scholarship was being created in Leo's memory. Harry liked the idea that Leo Dalton's name would be stamped on the place long after he had stopped stamping about the place physically.

The second charity was a local support group for bereaved parents. It didn't surprise Harry in the slightest that Leo had continued to support 'The Listeners.' He'd been shown a summary of Leo's accounts before he'd even left America and had queried the name then. They would be thrilled by the generous donation Leo had bequeathed them. Their website gave a London address, he would ring up and visit, it would be nice to be the bearer of good news for once. Not that they'd get the money straight away but they would eventually.

Finally there was a small amount left to the Salvation Army. Harry had been slightly surprised by Leo's choice of a religious charity but although he'd played faith questions close to his chest, Harry suspected that Leo had declared an open verdict on the subject of religion. There was no question that the work the Sally Army did among the homeless and with women's refuges was excellent and they had had many contacts over the years with their key workers. It reminded him of the church he'd stumbled into in New York the day of Leo's funeral. It also gave Harry a starting place for the clothes and household goods that he would have to dispose of. The night shelter would be glad of the clothes and boxing up the china and kitchen items would be perfect for a family just moving out of B&B accommodation or a women's refuge.

He'd managed to insure Leo's car in his own name yesterday, so he had a bit of flexibility and transport again. He hadn't missed driving at all in New York, he'd not missed the TV either but back in London he felt cut off without a car. The last thing he'd done yesterday had been to buy some boxes to begin the house clearance. His mother had suggested getting a firm in to do it for him, but he couldn't do that. Other than Francis, who had no stated interest in Leo's possessions there was no one else to go through Leo's things. He couldn't let strangers do it. He needed to sort through it and find some things that could be preserved. Some things that would remain forever Leo, safe in his friend's keeping and to others that were close to him.

Harry wandered through Leo's house munching on a piece of toast, he had no clue where to start. The house was oddly quiet, apart from the kitchen clock that had an ominously loud tick. Maybe he'd grown used to the constant traffic noise in New York. Even ten storeys up it was always there. Here there was just ticking and the birdsong from the garden.

It wasn't going to be the study Harry decided as he stood in the doorway. Every shelf was lined with books and he suspected that on a couple of bookcases there were books behind the books. The study would take hours, days probably. The kitchen was possible, but he didn't want to get rid of everything. If he was going to live there temporarily until he found his own place it would be no use giving away all of Leo's flatware and cutlery. The sitting room was possible, but then what to do with the TV? Would Nikki want it? He sat down in the easy chair he'd fallen asleep in the evening before.

There were so many questions.

There was so much to do.

"I need help Leo," he said out loud, as if Leo was sitting across from him on the sofa.

"Do you think she'll come back to me?"

He had no way of knowing and Leo wasn't answering.

He had no phone either so deciding that a new phone was the first priority of the day, he brushed his teeth and set out for the High Street.

The new phone acquired he left it charging and set to work on clearing the clothes. He had thought of a system whilst he was out: a bin pile, a charity pile, a keep pile and a 'Nikki needs to check this,' pile. That way he'd have included Nikki in the clearance but he was actually able to start work. The clothes would be the easiest. They were all too small to fit Harry and he couldn't imagine Jack wanting them; there was no one else who would benefit from them so he set to work. He'd tried putting the radio on, but he didn't recognise the songs and Chris Evans was far too perky at that time of the morning to suit the job in hand. He couldn't concentrate on Radio 4 as he moved from room to room and Women's Hour would be on soon, and he really couldn't face that. So he was left in silence.

He wasn't sure he liked it.

He called the bereavement charity and set up an appointment for the following day, and called the furniture centre at the Salvation Army to see if they would want any of Leo's things and how to go about getting it to them. He was relieved to find that they had their own van and would be happy to come over and take anything away he didn't wish to keep when he was ready.

He texted Nikki to thank her for his bags and to give her his new number, she texted back straight away to say she'd saved it on her phone, but there was nothing else. The clock said one, so he decided he should probably eat lunch even if he didn't want any. He pulled a packet of oat cakes out of Leo's cupboard and the cream cheese he'd bought the day before. He suspected Nikki had been at the fridge as there was nothing left in there and he was certain that Leo wouldn't have had such a presentiment of doom about his trip to have cleared out its contents completely.

It would also account for the one full cup of tea left in the sink with a lipstick stain at the rim.

He needed a break from house sorting, so he started drafting some business cards and looking at how to get himself a website. He made some initial notes as to what services he thought he would be able to offer. He'd have to devise a price list as well. He'd managed to do a deal with LSSE to have use of the Lyell Centre facilities in lieu of payment for the teaching he was scheduled to do there. He hadn't really wanted to return to LSSE, but he wasn't turning down an opportunity to use their facilities on the cheap.

His mother had suggested he talk to Trevor, the banker son of her friend Audrey. Trevor had taken Nikki on a couple of dates back in the new year. Harry wasn't keen on the idea but he wasn't in a position to be choosy and he needed a financial adviser. Even if it wasn't Trevor's area of expertise he would know someone who would know someone. He called the number his mother had given him and arranged to meet him for lunch on Wednesday.

He'd managed to stay awake throughout the afternoon and had just put a shepherd's pie his mother had left for him in the oven when he heard the doorbell ring.

"Hi Nikki," he said on opening the door. She looked hesitant, nervous even. "Come on in."

"Hi Harry, thanks," she replied not meeting his eye but walking into the hallway.

"How are you?" he asked politely.

She shot him a withering look, and stopped in the doorway to the living room.

"Are you alright?" Harry asked, more concerned this time.

He watched her swipe a hand across her face and hung back giving her space.

"So you've started clearing the place then?" She asked a forced even tone to her voice.

"Mm hm," Harry agreed. He watched her take in the pile of boxes in the living room.

"I've got a pile of clothes for you to look through if you can face it?" Harry suggested.

Nikki didn't reply just turned and raised an eyebrow at him.

"A few scarves, a hat… I didn't know if you'd…" Harry stopped. He'd forgotten her inability to compartmentalise her life. He'd spent the day assigning Leo's clothes to different destinations, without having to consider the reason for his actions. Without really focussing on his friend's death, but in just a few moments and a look at Nikki's rapidly blinking eyes brought back the enormity of it all.

"Why don't you go through to the garden?" Harry suggested. "I'll bring you a drink."

Nikki hadn't really been expecting a glass of wine, more like a cup of tea and stared at the glass in Harry's hand.

"I found Leo's wine stash. I figure it's ours now." He offered her the glass with a shrug, trying to show that he wouldn't be offended if she rejected it and asked for a cup of tea.

She met his eye then and took the glass. It was easier out here on the deck. It was somewhere she'd been before, somewhere she felt she was allowed to be, somewhere she could still pretend that Leo was still there, just out of sight. The patio table and chairs seemed so familiar, a place they had all sat and laughed together in previous years.

"How's it been going?" she asked, finally finding her voice.

"It's going to take ages," Harry groaned. "But I've taken a break every now and then to set up some of my own appointments.

"Appointments?"

"I'm having lunch with Trevor tomorrow," he said grimly. "I need financial advice," he added after a pause.

She nodded and took a sip of her wine. "Say hi from me, I hope you get on ok."

Harry shrugged non-commitally.

"Shall I bring the box out; see if there's anything you would want?" Harry asked.

She shook her head, he wasn't sure if that meant that she didn't want it, or she wasn't ready but he wasn't prepared to push the matter. This was the second night in a row she'd come over and something was making her incredibly uncomfortable. He only hoped it wasn't him.

* * *

**Huge apologies, I have misled you all. I am apparently the fool and I stand corrected and have it on good authority that 6:15 on a summer evening, or generally day time IS primetime burgling time. You have been warned!**


	35. Chapter 35 Impossible

**Chapter Thirty-Five**

**Tuesday 2****nd**** July**

"I got your letter," she said, leaning on the deck rail and staring into the trees at the bottom of the garden. She couldn't tell him how she'd broken down and wept reading it, she couldn't tell him how surprised she'd been at his honesty and she certainly couldn't tell him how the message of hope that it contained was the only thing that had propelled her to get in the car and to drive to Leo's for the second time in as many days.

"I got your note."

"Thanks for taking the time to explain all Leo's wishes; I'm sorry about what I said before. Sorry for not reading the emails."

"You've already apologised, just leave it now." He hovered by the French door uncertain whether to go closer.

"What do you think of my idea?" he asked, he couldn't keep the nervousness from his voice. He still valued Nikki's opinion above all others. "Do you think it will work?"

"It's a good idea," she began knowing that he was talking of his business plan not the part of his letter that she'd sat up rereading in bed until she'd memorised every word of every line. Somehow she had begun to believe it, deep in her core she had always believed it but it hadn't deadened the surface pain of his absence, if anything it had just exacerbated it.

Harry smiled "Just because it's a good idea, it doesn't mean it will work."

"Was it really Leo's idea?"

He walked the few steps to be closer to her, leant over the deck rail and joined her tree watching. "It was; we talked about it a while back; about what would have happened to us if I'd not left." He could see her out of the corner of his eye, but something made him keep his distance. In the old days their elbows would be bumping, now there was space between them.

"What would have happened to us?" Nikki queried.

"To the three of us? Leo was planning on making himself redundant and going independent." Harry explained.

"But that job was his life! He loved it!" Nikki exclaimed. "That time when he was accused of misconduct when James' spook messed with those files, he was beside himself."

"But that was after I'd gone…"

"You think he really would have left if you hadn't?" she asked incredulously.

Harry nodded and sipped at his wine.

"He told me as much."

"He would have just left the two of us?" Harry nodded again and tapped his glass on hers

Nikki turned round sharply and lent back against the railing, her back to the garden and her face to the house.

"Do you think he was trying to tell us something?" she asked quietly.

"I think he was looking for a way of not firing either of us and making the department viable," Harry suggested, still staring into the distance.

"But this?" she gestured forward toward the house.

"You mean leaving us his house? You think he had some ulterior motive?"

"Don't you?" she asked cross questioning him. It had been a long time since they'd spoken like this. It felt familiar but not quite comfortable yet, like a favourite jumper that had been washed in a different washing powder, looked the same, felt the same but still had the wrong smell to it.

"I think you leave your assets to the people you care most about in your life and that's what he did." Did he suspect Leo of forcing them together in the event of his death by making them joint owners of his house? It was possible but it didn't seem likely.

"Do you have a will?" she asked.

"Do you?" he deflected.

She nodded.

"and…?"

"My godchildren, friends. My mortgage is still big, I've not much to give away." She paused, "You?"

"I never got round to it," he admitted. It was stupid he knew, he'd almost been close enough to needing one on a couple of occasions but he'd still not done it. He knew why though. It would be a legal document detailing the fact that he had hardly any family and no significant people in his life. Could there be anything more depressing?

"Do you think you can do it?" Nikki asked.

"What?" Harry suspected that they had moved on from the subject of wills, but he had to be sure.

"Go independent," she clarified.

"It won't be easy," he admitted and remembered his mother's words.

"No, it won't," she agreed. "How will you advertise? Where will you work, how are you going to afford it?"

"I'll teach part time until things take off, longer if they don't."

"It sounds so difficult; impossible."

"Impossible is just what hasn't been done, It's not impossible when it's possible." It was a line Jorge used all the time, it felt right when he said it. Jorge could always make the impossible happen. Harry wasn't feeling so certain.

He could feel her looking at him, felt her eyes searching his face which he kept stubbornly turned to the garden. He could feel her thinking, feel her questioning how his year abroad had changed him. Please don't let this be a gap year fantasy he wished; to return with the belief that he could change the world, only to discover that he could not. He'd always promised himself never to believe in fantasy. And he didn't want to change the world. There wasn't much he wanted, the difference now was that he knew what it was that he wanted.

His wants were simple. He wanted to be his own boss, he wanted to do what he did best, he wanted to find answers for grieving people and he wanted most of all to do all this with Nikki by his side. He wanted to love her the way he knew he could. He wanted her.

"Harry? What's that smell?"

Harry threw down his wine glass on the table and dashed inside just in time to retrieve his mother's dinner out the oven. Nikki followed him in.

"I think it's still edible," he said poking at a blacker bit.

"Doesn't look big enough for two," Nikki said and began making her way towards the door.

"Please stay," Harry murmured as she passed him. "There'll be plenty, unless of course you rediscovered your appetite in the last 24 hours?"

She paused. She was tired, she knew she wouldn't cook when she got home. It did smell good, if a little overcooked in places.

She looked back; Harry had already served the meal onto two plates, shoved a handful of bagged salad on each plate and was looking for cutlery.

She thought about his words earlier and the two of them. 'Impossible is just what hasn't been done.' Were they still possible? She just didn't know anymore, she was so tired, so angry still.

"You want to eat here or in the garden?" Harry asked becoming more certain that it was the house that was making Nikki nervous and not him.

"The garden will be great," she replied and walked back the way she had just come.

* * *

**Stolen line alert, prizes for anyone who can place the 'impossible' quote and don't say Jorge! If I was being really conscientious I'd go back and sneak it in somewhere but I'm tired so you'll just have to take my word for it, we just didn't hear Jorge say it, but Harry did. All guesses welcome. I was most upset no one guessed the previous stolen line: the 'Who's at the door?' quote from Justin's House on CBeebies. Maybe you were being shy…**


	36. Chapter 36 The Listeners

**Chapter Thirty Six**

**Wednesday 3****rd**** July **

Harry ate in the kitchen. Nikki hadn't come over this evening. He'd made sure there was enough food just in case. Not so much that it looked like two portions. He didn't want to appear presumptuous. It was quiet without her, only Leo's annoying clock for company. He'd enjoy recycling that. Not that it had been noisy the night before. They had not talked much last night over their burnt offering. They'd almost eaten in silence, the conversation only turning to snippets about the weather, the news and Leo's garden. Harry hadn't dared look in the shed yet. He'd have to cut the grass soon though.

She'd left shortly after finishing eating, she'd texted today to say that she was working late. He was tempted to call Jack but that just felt like he was checking up on her and he had no right to do that. She had told him she wasn't coming. He would have to trust her.

He did trust her.

It was just that he was very aware that the last time she'd been in a similar state he hadn't really listened to her, hadn't managed to hear what she was actually saying and he didn't want to make the same mistake twice.

If his imagined evening with Nikki hadn't gone as he'd hoped, the rest of the day more than made up for it. He'd made a big breakthrough in his attempts to kickstart his business and his lunch with Trevor had gone much better than he had expected; he had the name and number of someone that would help him work through the projected costs of his new venture, and his first recommendation. Or to be precise Leo had got him his first recommendation. And for the first time he was confident that it was going to be possible.

He'd gone over to Leo's 'Listener's' charity headquarters first thing. He'd driven Leo's car, it had taken him ages to find out how to switch off the stereo. He couldn't change the channel or the volume so he'd been stuck with Heart FM and Barbara Streisand and Neil Diamond had made it most of the way through: 'You don't bring me flowers,' before he'd finally managed to hit the right button to finally silence them.

The charity had a small shop and office space above. It looked like any of the other charity shops that seemed to be the predominant force on the high street now. Upstairs however was a receptionist and a couple of meeting rooms, sofas, chairs and cushions everywhere to make the office warm and inviting. It was a million miles away from the faceless cubicles at NYU.

"I've got an appointment with Charlotte Fielding," Harry had said.

The receptionist clicked the mouse and stared at the computer screen when suddenly the door to the office had burst open and a tall red-headed women had bundled in. The receptionist looked from Harry to the woman and back again.

"I need to see Charlie, now!" she'd cried.

Harry noted the woman's wan face and deeply circled eyes.

"It's ok, I can wait," he'd said and sat down on the sofa and picked up the latest Listener newsletter.

"Marcia is that you?" Charlotte Fielding stepped out of her door and towards the desperate woman.

"I didn't know what else to do, I didn't know where else to come, we've asked and begged and pleaded for so long for this and now we've got it, it makes no sense whatsoever. I don't understand!" The redhead had explained and had waved a manila folder she had clutched in her hand.

"Do you want to come through?" Charlie had asked her. "Would you like a coffee?" Without waiting for a reply she had continued. "Stacey could you make us a couple of coffees please and maybe Doctor…."

"Harry Cunningham," Harry said as he'd risen to his feet.

"Maybe he'd like one as well."

"Thanks," Harry had said as Stacey had handed over the coffee. "Do you know what that was about?"

Stacey shook her head.

"Not precisely, but I can guess."

The voices from Charlie's room, or Marcia's voice was getting louder, not loud enough to be understood but loud enough to hear the stress and pain that the woman was in.

"Her baby's death was recorded as SIDS, she wanted to see the pathology report. We always counsel against it, only the coroner has a right to see the actual report but sometimes they let parents see them. It rarely helps." Stacey had said quietly.

"Is that what she was holding? The pathologist's report? Is that what she couldn't understand?"

Stacey had shrugged, the phone had rung.

"Sorry; it's the help line, make yourself at home."

Harry had stepped back towards the sofa, he could hear Charlie's voice now, it was soft and soothing but Marcia's sobs were still all too apparent. Instead of sitting back down Harry had stepped forward and knocked on Charlie's door.

"Not now Stacey," Charlie had called.

Harry had pressed forward and opened the door. Both women stared up at him.

"Look, I know it's none of my business, but Stacey said that the document you're having trouble with is a pathologist's report."

Charlie had looked furious at the interruption but Marcia had been so desperate she was willing to accept any help from anyone.

"It's just," Harry had continued. "I'm here on other business today, but I am a pathologist. I could look through that report with you if you wish. Translate it into English for you? If that sounded like something you'd want?"

Charlie's face finally softened and Marcia's looked as if it had been kissed by an angel.

"You'd do that for me?"

"Yes I would and don't worry I'm not going to present you with a bill at the end or anything. We'll just sit here and read it through and see if we can make some sense of the results."

"Thank you! Yes I would like that," Marcia had said with relief. It had been so hard, losing her beautiful son and then instead of having time to grieve being thrust into a maelstrom of bureaucracy and endless questioning. Constantly having to fight, fight through the paperwork, fight through the questions and police interviews, fight the disbelieving looks of friend and neighbours, fight through the hospital interviews, doctors reports, none of which had any answers any reasons why this had happened and finally here was someone who was calm and was prepared to listen and wasn't in a rush.

Harry actually hadn't had much to tell her, there were no indications in the blood work that the baby had had an infection of any kind. All the samples had been within normal levels. He'd wanted to skip over the investigation of the lungs and airways for foreign fibres. It was policy that suffocation accidental or intentional was always looked for but the child had had no fibres in his airway. Nothing to suggest that he had been smothered, so Harry had continued reading and explaining.

"Would a second opinion, or second autopsy find anything new?" Marcia had asked when they got to the end.

"There is nothing to suggest that Dr…." Harry flipped through the pages to find the name of the pathologist. "Dr Shah hasn't done a thorough job. If the blood work were retested it would still show that all was within normal limits. There is nothing in the stomach contents to show that the child ingested something they shouldn't have and the presence of intrathoracic petechiae is I'm afraid one of the defining characteristics of a death from SIDS. You could ask for a second opinion but it won't change the fact that Tommy has died. If I'd have done this autopsy I'm sure I would have come to the same conclusion." He'd passed Marcia the box of tissues then. It was hard to hear but it was the truth.

"You've been so kind doctor."

"Call me Harry," he replied.

"Do you have a number?"

Charlie looked up concerned now. She'd let Harry talk because it was in everyone's best interests. But personal numbers were a different matter.

"I mean your card?" Marcia had clarified. "What you've done today in twenty minutes has been more than anyone else has since my Tommy passed on. I was just wondering if I could pass your details on so you could help other people, if you were interested. I'll give you the most amazing write up on Mumsnet, your phone will never stop!" Marcia had given him a weak smile.

He hadn't expected anything in return, but suddenly it seemed as if his plan to go independent had taken a massive step forward. This could be exactly the starting point he needed.

"I've only recently got back in the country. I'm still getting my office set up. But as soon as I am, I'll give Charlie my details and then she can pass them on to you and anyone else who might need a pathologist.

"Thank you, I'm sorry I hijacked you're appointment."

Harry squeezed Marcia's hand. "I was glad I could help."

After Marcia had left, Charlie had insisted Stacey make her a strong cup of tea.

"Are your days always like that?" Harry had asked.

"Many of them," Charlie had admitted. "What can I do for you Harry?"

"Well, I have good news and bad news," he'd begun.

* * *

**Sorry lots of STUFF in these chapters but it does have to be done to make the rest credible I'm afraid. Don't forget there's a guess that line competition… I'll look forward to hearing from you ;)**


	37. Chapter 37 Kicked Off Shoes

**Wow Hesitant hedgehog is on FIRE! First one to spot the impossible quote; I'm impressed. Congratulations and a reheated by Harry meal for you with extra burnt bits. If you need it in action youtube 'spoiler alert the hour ben whishaw you are impossible' just stop after the first minute unless you want to be really depressed, although I do hear that had there been a third series the writer was planning on letting Freddie live. You've been warned.**

**Special thanks to Freya82 for all her help on this chapter and the kick up the backside I needed to write this properly.**

* * *

**Chapter 37**

**Thursday 4****th**** July**

**Kicked Off Shoes**

Harry was looking forward to dinner today, Nikki had promised to come over and Jorge and Beto were going to Skype him at seven. It seemed strange that the reason they were around on a Thursday was a public holiday given in honour of the Americans beating the British but he didn't care about the history. He'd missed his friends and he was looking forward to hearing all about Vegas. He'd sorted the dinner too and set the oven timer, so it would come on and go off perfectly. He might not be able to figure out Leo's car stereo or his SAT NAV but he could operate the cooker.

He'd been shown round some houses in the morning, none of which he'd liked; wrong location, wrong layout, too much work, too big, too small. Then he had been to see a web designer in the afternoon. His new financial adviser had scheduled a meeting for Monday and before then he wanted Harry to produce a realistic spread sheet of costs. It was hard to think of the monetary worth of his time and the cost of the tests he had run routinely in the past but if he didn't have a clear idea of how much to charge, there was no way he would ever earn a living from it.

He'd made it clear to Trevor that he didn't want to profit from people's misery. He'd seen that clearly talking to Marcia yesterday. She would have willingly thrown every penny she had at him in an attempt to think she was doing the best for her son, but nothing was going to bring that baby back and he wouldn't take people's money because it salved their consciences. Maybe his first consultation should always be free. He'd find out if the case was really worth investigating further and if he thought it would be of use to the relatives. He couldn't see his financial adviser thinking it was a smart move but it did establish a kind of decency and propriety; made him look less of an ambulance chaser.

He'd tidied the garden when he got bored of working on his spread sheet. But he'd tired of that quickly, just cutting the grass had been exhausting so he'd phoned Nikki to ask for help with the costs. Jack had picked up, they'd chatted about nothing particular only the reason for Harry's call until Jack had said,

"Well, I suppose I do owe you a favour."

He'd given Harry, Clarissa's number and within an hour Clarissa had emailed him back with the most comprehensive list he'd ever seen. She'd even included the price of an exhumation; how she'd found it out, and so quickly he'd never know but he was smart enough to realise that here was a woman he had to stay on good terms with. He wondered why Nikki had never really spent much time with her. He'd heard a lot about Jack, but little about Clarissa. She was obviously intelligent and sociable. He was missing a piece of the puzzle of that he was sure.

Nikki arrived about 6:30, Harry heard her let herself in with her key, and call out to him as she kicked off her shoes in the hallway. It was the best sound he'd heard all day. He still hadn't adjusted to the radio, and had only just found out how to log on to Leo's wifi but playing tunes out of his computer seemed wrong.

Leo's CD collection was atrocious as Harry had expected. He was surprised there weren't more early classics. No Rolling Stones, no Who not even Creedance Clearwater Revival. What had Leo been doing in his prime? Certainly not listening to music. All he'd found was 'Tubular Bells' and 'Hotel California,' he didn't even have Pink Floyd's Dark Side of the Moon, he thought everyone owned that album somewhere. He'd not bothered to look through the classical ones, the first three were all Chopin and then a Debussy, he didn't wait to see if the rest were alphabetised he just dumped them all into one of the boxes to go to the charity shop.

"Hi Nikki, how was your day?" he called out but to no answer. He could hear clanking sounds coming from the kitchen; maybe he'd join her in a cuppa before he talked to Jorge.

"How are you?" he repeated to her back, again without reply.

He walked up behind her and tapped her on the shoulder, "Nikki?" he asked.

She jumped about a foot in the air and her sudden movement dislodged one of her earphones.

"Oh, hi Harry, I didn't realise you were in," she said, moving closer to the cupboard.

"But you were coming over for dinner and to start on the books, where else would I be?"

She looked confused as if Harry had caught her with her hands in the biscuit tin, not just making tea.

"What's the matter?" he asked.

"Nothing, I'm fine," she said and hastily plugged her earpiece back in.

She had agreed to come over, but she was still avoiding him, or punishing him. He wasn't sure which. Or maybe she was trying to distract herself from the task in hand by focusing on her music or whatever it was she was listening to. She had every right to he supposed and he'd put up with it for a while. She'd forgive him eventually wouldn't she? Maybe Jorge and Beto would be able to help.

They'd not talked about the rest of the letter Harry had written to her. Yet. They'd talked about Leo's will, Harry's plans for his new job, Jorge's new job even, but not the page at the beginning; the one where he'd explained why he was coming home. He'd never worked on anything so conscientiously before. He could have written a week's worth of post-mortems in the time it took to write those short paragraphs but she seemed to have blanked them entirely.

Had he been wrong? Had it been too much? Did he understand so little about women? About her? Maybe he should have let Beto read through it. He'd offered to help and Harry had laughed off his suggestion as if it had been a joke. But he knew it wasn't, maybe Beto would have had the words to pierce Nikki's armour plating and touch her heart. After Harry's refusal of help, Beto had begun singing 'Dear Darling,' parodying both Olly Murs' voice, Harry pretending to write his letter and a few donkey noises thrown in for fun. They'd all ended up laughing at the time. It didn't seem so funny now.

Nikki was in the study, he could hear her pushing the books around in the boxes. He looked at his laptop on the kitchen table. Leo's clock was still thundering along its peculiar countdown, it was too early to Skype but he could open it up ready. Harry clicked on the document in which he'd drafted her letter. Maybe if he looked at it again he'd see where he'd gone wrong. Nikki wasn't likely to come in. She'd made it clear she wasn't in the mood for talking. Even if she did walk in, it would just force the conversation that needed to be had. He had rewritten it so many times even he was blurry about which version he'd finally written out by hand and sent to her.

_Dear Nikki,_

_I have tried to live life without you, on my terms, I have endured life without you, on your terms and I don't like either. I'm tired, Nikki. I'm tired of making excuses. I'm tired of being afraid. I'm tired of lying to myself. I'm tired of wasting time. _

_I need you. _

_I want you._

_I am in love with you. _

_I never expected to discover that at age forty I had finally fallen in love and fallen so hard that your saying, 'goodbye,' to me after our weekend together in New York, could cause me actual physical pain. But it did, it was more terrifying and more painful than looking death in the face Nikki, and you and I both know how that feels. And then when I heard that you were going to Afghanistan, the way my heart pounded, I thought it would rupture. I knew then that I would never be able to move on from you. That my love for you was not something I could control and for my life to have any worth or joy; I needed to be with you again; to do whatever it would take to win you back._

_I am a scientist, not an artist and certainly not a poet. These are the only words I have. I see the world as a scientist would, a set of stages to be worked through, investigated, classified and filed and for much of my life the conclusions I have drawn from all those investigations never made sense. I had the wrong theory, the wrong method, the wrong expectations, the wrong actions. Not coming back for Leo's funeral was wrong Nikki. I am sorry, I should have been there._

_When I am with you, I have answers. With you I can see the complete picture. Your mind is open to possibilities that I cannot imagine, and so with you, when we are together, my questions are answered and I find the right theories, the right methods, the right expectations. I told you once that I wasn't sure how to get what I wanted from life, I'm still not sure how, but I know what I want. _

_I want to be with you, live with you, love you, raise a family with you if you wish, grow old with you._

_You make my world come alive. I never fully understood that until you were gone. I don't ever want to go back to that dark place; you are my light, my illumination. Without you, I am barely a shadow._

_Forgive me please. I know it will take time. I know we will have problems. I'm not expecting it to be a smooth ride but could we please try? Nikki I'm sure you loved me once._

_Can you give me one more chance to make us work? Please._

He screwed up his face and leant back in his chair. Perhaps Beto could have made it better; it was too late to change now. He'd just have to try and show her that it was true. Maybe then she would believe him.

He ran his hand across his cheek, then quickly closed the window as he heard the Skype tone ring.

* * *

**Never intended on writing the letter, hope it is Harry enough.**


	38. Chapter 38 New York New York

**Chapter Thirty Eight**

**Thursday 4****th**** July.**

"**It's up to you New York, New York."**

"Harry! Burro!" his friends called into their webcam.

"Happy 4thof July!" Harry smiled back.

"How are you?"

"Not as warm as you!" Harry laughed, looking at their t-shirts and shorts. He was even wearing a cotton sweater. "What are you doing tonight?"

"We're seeing the fireworks at Caesar's Palace, we're going early to get a place right up by the fountains. If we're lucky we'll see the ones in Symphony Park too."

"So how's Vegas treating you?"

"It's fabulous Harry, I've got my own band. My OWN band and they listen to what I say and the show is really popular. We've had some great reviews. Did you read the ones I sent you?"

"I did, congratulations Jorge, I'm really pleased for you."

"How is it back there?"

"Different, chilly, getting warmer maybe? Hopefully not too stormy."

"Are you talking about the weather or your love life Burro?" Beto interrupted.

"Both," Harry laughed.

"Who are you talking to?" Nikki called out. Whatever she was listening to must have finished.

"Is she there with you?" his friends squeaked.

"Yes, she's here, we're going through some of Leo's books, it's going to take days but at least it feels we're making a start." And then he shouted louder, "Nikki? Jorge wants to speak to you."

"I did not say that," Jorge hissed.

"Look things are still a bit tense, she's talking to me, she's working with me, she's eating with me, we just need a bit of time."

"Time!" Beto scoffed. "Time is what you've had plenty of." He saw Nikki walk in but he didn't stop talking, "No necesitan más tiempo, necesitan algún tipo de acción."

"Hello Jorge. Hi Beto," Nikki waved at the faces in the webcam. Harry skidded over on his seat to give her space to share his chair and the webcam. But instead Nikki stood behind him and lent over the chair.

"Does he always speak Spanish?" Nikki asked Harry.

"Usually only when he's insulting me," Harry replied gruffly. Nikki waved again. "Most of the time actually," Harry continued more to himself than anyone else.

"How's it going? Congratulations on the Vegas job."

"Thanks Nikki, we'd have never got here without you." Harry wasn't certain but he was pretty sure Beto was miming the words to Elvis' 'A little less conversation, a little more action,' over Jorge's shoulder as Jorge answered Nikki's question.

"It wasn't just me, Leo paid for some of it too."

"Leo?" Jorge asked. "Harry's old boss, the one that just died?"

Nikki nodded.

"Well thanks to you and Leo then. How's it going, Harry getting on your nerves again yet?"

They both smiled sheepishly into the computer and she pushed his shoulder.

"You can send him back when you're fed up with him, we need someone to carry all the stuff still."

"Is that the only reason you miss me?" Harry scoffed but the smiles on his friends faces reassured him that they were joking.

"So how is he doing?" Beto asked.

"He's not doing so bad."

"Good," Jorge replied.

"So have you seen any other shows in Vegas, or are you too busy doing yours?" Nikki asked.

"We saw the Rat Pack, last weekend, it was awesome. Beto thought we should branch out and do a bit of Sinatra. What do you think Harry? I think 'New York New York,' would go down a treat."

"Maybe at a karaoke, I'd leave it out of the Elvis act, unless you're looking to get fired."

"We could do it now for you, remind you of home?"

"Home?" Harry queried.

"Come on, there were bits of it you loved." Beto teased.

"There were," Harry admitted with a smile.

"A fourth of July treat?"

Jorge was off, a rhythm playing in his head:

"_Start spreading the news, I'm leaving today!"_

Beto filling in the harmonies.

"Jorge!" Harry and Beto both laughed.

"I think I'll get back to the books," Nikki said suddenly before they'd even reached the chorus and ran back to the study.

"Was it something we said?" the friends asked. "Is she alright? She didn't look herself."

"She'll get there," Harry said in a determined voice. "The last couple of months have been pretty tough on her. Leo was about the only family she had left."

"Nikki and Leo are related?" Jorge said in a surprised voice. "No wonder she's a mess."

"No, not actually related, she never had a big family; Leo filled a gap before and after her real father died."

"The real one wasn't great then?"

"No, not great at all but he was all she had left."

"Until now!" Beto insisted.

"Alright, leave it, she can probably still hear you. But you're enjoying yourselves? You've got the Sinatra accent already. I can't imagine how many times you've made Beto listen to Sinatra. Vegas is all you thought it would be?"

"I'm getting quicker at the accents," Jorge replied, but Harry could see Beto rolling his eyes behind his lover. "Vegas is brilliant Harry. You remember how many job offers used to come for Beto in New York, that's a bit like record deals now. Vegas is AWESOME!"

"So you're pleased you went?"

"Oh yes! Harry, you should see the dancers, we've got Flamenco dancers for Surrender, and the guys in Jail House Rock. Phewee! You should see…"

Harry couldn't reply for laughing.

"We've been working on a new routine for 'Don't Be Cruel.' It was always your favourite.

"No it wasn't!" He spluttered.

They laughed and chatted easily for a while longer.

"So, no regrets then?" Harry asked.

"No!"

"You?"

Harry shook his head, but he couldn't summon as much enthusiasm as his friends had.

"Well if it doesn't work out you can always come to Vegas." Beto offered.

"What would I do in Vegas?" Harry replied.

"Shag showgirls? I don't know. Whatever you want!" Jorge laughed.

"Shh!" hissed Harry. "She's probably listening."

"Like she doesn't know," muttered Beto.

"Oh, stay in London then, see if we care!" Jorge pouted with his eyes twinkling.

"I shall, thank you," Harry replied loftily.

"Look after Nikki for us, we really do owe her for this gig" Jorge said.

"I'm trying. I hope you enjoy the fireworks. I do miss you two you know."

"Steady on there, you're English, stiff upper lip and all that." Jorge laughed.

"We miss you too, Burro," Beto added.

"Keep sending the pictures and the reviews. I love reading them," Harry replied.

"Will do, Bye Harry. Happy 4th!

"Happy 4th of July to you too!"

"Bye."

"Bye,"

Harry clicked to shut down his computer. He wondered what it was that had upset Nikki. Apart from the earplugs she had seemed ok. It was clever, something to keep her mind off of what she was doing. She'd always been brilliant, cleverer than he in so many ways and often the one to spot the link in their old cases that no one else could.

She hadn't shared his chair but she had stood behind him; it was the closest they had been since he had arrived back. They'd hardly touched at all, just a nudge to his shoulder and she'd initiated that. He couldn't think what had got into her to upset her so, trying to puzzle out her actions was exhausting, he was out of practice. And Jorge had just been goofing about; his Sinatra impression wasn't that bad. Maybe it was the thought of going through Leo's books that had put her on edge and then Harry stopped.

Sinatra.

July 4th

It was all coming back to him.

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**New York New York: Sinatra**

**Harry remembers but do you? It was a while ago I'll admit that.**


	39. Chapter 39 Thump Thump

**Chapter Thirty Nine**

**Thursday 4****th**** July **

**Thump Thump**

It was coming back to him alright.

July 4th. Independence Day. How could he have forgotten?

He even had that same churning feeling in the pit of his stomach as if he would be sick. It was a year ago today she had found out he was leaving. Found out because he hadn't had the guts to tell her. Found out at the end of year LSSE knees up, because the band had played, 'New York, New York' and he'd legged it to the locker rooms of the Lyell to vomit up his treachery and desertion.

"I'm sorry," Harry said as he stood in the doorway and watched her pull a book off the shelf, flick through the pages and consign it to one of the boxes in the middle of the floor. Harry had moved the rest of the furniture out earlier so now it was just books, bookshelves and boxes. There was the bin box, the charity box, the LSSE box, a Harry box, a Nikki box and a 'we'll have to talk about these ones' box. He watched her move, she still had the earphones in, but he could tell from her movements that no music was playing. The way she reached up to a book and flicked through it would have followed the rhythm of the music; her actions were jumpy, angry and irregular so unless she had developed a love of thrash metal, he suspected the earphones were just there for defence.

"Nikki?" he called a little louder and moving into her line of vision. Playing the game by her rules as he had done once before to prolong a conversation with her.

She pulled out the earphones and Harry couldn't help but listen to hear if his assumption about the music was right. If there was music playing it didn't have a base line and was very quiet.

"I'm sorry and I owe you a dance," he said.

"Pardon?"

"I owe you a dance," Harry repeated.

Nikki just shrugged.

"This time last year, at the party before I left."

"The one when you were ill?"

"That's the one, I promised to dance with you; I ran off and left you."

"As I recall you ran off to be sick; I'm glad you didn't stay, I wouldn't have wanted it all over my shoes." She paused, "Leo took your place anyway." Her hand picked up an earpiece and hovered by her chin threatening to plug it back in.

"But Leo's not here anymore." It was cruel but it had to be said. He knew they weren't really talking about his actions at the party. He didn't add 'and I'm back now' because he saw her chest jerk on hearing him talk about Leo in such a way. He didn't know where he stood at all with her. She had read his letter, but she had barely looked at him since. She'd hardly looked at him at all since he'd returned from America, finding the floor or the dirt so much more interesting. Even on reading the letter again he couldn't think of any more he could have said.

"You think you can just walk back in and everything will be ok again?" she began. He looked up at her then, this was a tone of voice he'd not heard from her for a while. He shook his head in answer to her question.

"I knew it wouldn't be easy," he refrained from adding, 'I told you it wouldn't be easy in the letter,' she didn't need him to rile her further.

"This is not some cheesy film; this is real life. Leo's dead, we're going through his things and we're throwing out his life." He could hear her voice beginning to catch.

"We're not throwing out his life, Nikki," Harry said patiently. "We're throwing out some of his stuff, but we will never forget Leo."

She tugged another book off the shelf and flicked through the pages angrily.

"Why do you do that?" Harry asked.

"Leo was forever leaving things in his books, odd book markers, notes, money, mostly it's supermarket receipts but sometimes there are photos other stuff. You must remember that! The amount of stuff that fell out anytime you borrowed a book from Leo?"

He nodded again. How could he have forgotten? Here he was claiming that they would remember their friend and yet he'd forgotten so much. He looked at the small pile of books that he'd consigned to the boxes earlier and back to the pile of papers and photo's that Nikki had already found in the books she'd checked and neatly stacked on the shelf in front of her.

"Sorry, I had forgotten. Looks like I'm starting again," he sighed and sat down and started flicking through the books. Nikki replaced her earphones and went back to tugging books from the shelves. The only sound for a while was the flicking of pages and a dull thump as each book was consigned to its new box setting up an unnerving drum beat, not dissimilar to the sound of gravel hitting a coffin, or an army preparing for battle.

Harry finished redoing the books he'd already placed in the boxes, finding a boarding pass from South Africa, three supermarket receipts, two telephone message slips in Nikki's handwriting and a couple of post its. He stood up and set to work on the shelf on the opposite wall to Nikki. That way she wouldn't have to see him, she could work in her cocooned safety zone. It wasn't exactly the fourth of July celebration he'd have had if he'd not returned.

He'd worked his way through another ten books when her voice suddenly made him jump.

"Doesn't it make you angry?" Nikki asked.

"What?" Harry looked back at her. "Having to sort through Leo's things, or the fact that he's dead?"

He watched her wince again. "Who could I be angry with?" he added.

"There are plenty of people," Nikki replied, a hard edge coming to her voice which was much lower than normal.

"I've had plenty of time to be angry," Harry insisted.

Nikki scoffed, "You used to do angry so well," and she pulled out her earphones and turned to face him with a challenging stare.

"What?" he asked incredulously.

"You did, you used to do angry really well but now? You say you've been angry but when? When have you been angry? I've not seen angry!"

"Nikki!" he chided unwilling to be drawn into whatever little showdown she was planning.

"Why aren't you angry that he's gone? Didn't you care for him even a bit? Why aren't you angry that he's left you to clear up this mess? Why aren't you angry with me?"

"Nikki, stop this," he said quietly. "Why would I be angry with you?"

They faced each other across the room, the boxes a barricade between them. But even without the boxes, the distance and distrust between them yawned like a crevasse in an ice sheet. Something was coming, Harry might be out of practice but he recognised the look in her eyes now. She was spoiling for a fight. She'd taunted him about his temper; it was a low blow for her. The sick feeling in his stomach returned. Jorge and Beto were looking forward to their fourth of July fireworks. He on the other hand was not.

"Why don't you hate me?" she thundered. Harry felt his stomach plummet, he was trapped. It was fight of flight and she and the boxes were blocking his way to the door.


	40. Chapter 40 You've Changed

**Bumper edition today, still three but all quite long. This one's a bit left field, I'd love to know if you think I've pushed too far or if it's ok.**

* * *

**Chapter Forty**

**Thursday 4****th**** July**

**You've Changed**

But there was no stopping Nikki now. "Why?" she shouted. "Because I really hate you, that's why you should be angry at me! That's why you should hate me! And why aren't you angry at the Taliban, at Leo for going, or the mess that is Afghanistan and every other stupid injustice in the world?"

"Because if I was Nikki I would never make it out of bed in the morning, or I'd have had a vodka and Valium cocktail years ago! What is the matter with you?"

"I don't get it!" she said brusquely. "This new you, you're all calm, collected. I don't know if I know you anymore?"

"Don't be ridiculous. Of course you know me. I'm exactly the same as I was."

"That's not true. You've changed."

"A year's gone passed Nikki, of course we've changed, we've both changed and Leo's death has changed us as well but you do know me!"

"I don't," she insisted.

"What and making me lose my temper and shout at you is going to make that better? You think you'll see something you recognise then do you? Nikki what the hell is the matter with you?"

"I'm just so angry Harry, I'm so angry and I don't see any of that in you. How is that possible? I thought I knew you and now I just don't know."

"I had plenty of time to be angry," he said his voice low but full of passion. "I've been angry since a week before you even left on that stupid mission AND I told Leo so. He should have realised he had no business in that place. You should have known too. And Jack seems like a sensible bloke in a crazy kind of way. He'd have known it was likely to be a fight. Maybe that's why he went." Harry broke off and gave a half laugh.

"But the rest of you! You should have known better. I WAS angry then, Nikki, I was livid! With you and with Leo but YOU weren't talking to me. You never knew how angry I was because you weren't speaking to me! You say you don't know me now but you were the one that didn't return my calls, my texts or my emails, how were you supposed to know me if you ignored my very existence for three months? Tell me that Nikki!" He was shouting now and he knew it, he could feel his heart pounding in his chest, but she had started this and despite appearances to the contrary he hadn't lost control yet. He screwed his hands up into fists.

"That wasn't anger, that was fear!" she sneered.

"Don't you tell me what I was feeling," he bit back.

"You want to know what I'm angry about most?" she asked.

Harry didn't reply, but didn't lose eye contact with her. She'd started the fight by telling him she hated him, he might as well hear the whole lot. He'd wanted her to open up to him, this wasn't what he was anticipating but it was talking and there was no doubt that she was being honest.

She moved around the boxes and took a step closer to him. "You know what I've wanted most since all this happened? So I wouldn't be here dealing with all this shit?" She gestured around the room but Harry understood she wasn't really talking about the physical house clearance. "I wished that you had come with us," she spat.

"Nikki?" Harry asked nonplussed.

"I wish that you were the one that died and not Leo," she pointed her finger at him and took another step forward. She was stood right in front of him now, closer than she'd been since his return. He saw pain in her eyes and something else, something dark and totally consuming.

"Why wasn't it you?" she yelled the sudden change in volume breaking the funereal silence that had hung upon the house, and to Harry's surprise she brought her fist down hard on his chest. It was almost strong enough to knock him off his balance but he stood his ground, his hands by his sides.

"I could easily hate you," she thumped him again but still Harry didn't back off. "Then I wouldn't be in this mess," she jabbed her right fist into his stomach. "Losing you wouldn't have hurt this much," her left fist crashed into his chest. "Then I could stop being angry at you, because there'd be no one left to be angry at and I could stop feeling angry with myself for hating you and wishing you were dead. I want Leo back! I want things to go back as they were before. I don't want you. I don't even know who you are? I want Leo!" She cried, all the while her fists flailed against Harry's chest and shoulders. He hadn't retaliated at all, but as her shouts reached a crescendo he grabbed both of her wrists, almost lifting her off the floor and put her down at arm's length away from him but didn't loosen his grip on her wrists.

"You don't want me dead," he said evenly, despite feeling anything but calm. She had a pretty mean punch and she wasn't holding anything back.

"Don't you be so sure," she replied menacingly.

"Then why are you here now helping me?" he cried shaking her arm's for emphasis. He saw her open her mouth to reply but no words came out. She twisted her wrists in his hands to break free of him, but he held on tightly, he wasn't going to let her hit him again.

But Nikki had other ways of fighting and she stared back at him defiantly. "I can't be angry with Leo, I can't be angry at some faceless Taliban pawn, there's no one over there I can be angry with except you and I can't control it anymore. I know how to be angry at you! I wish it had been YOU! Leo would have known what to do. He would have been able to help me. You'd left me anyway. You've been gone so long. Why couldn't it have been you? I want him back," her voice had taken on a more desperate sound. "I want Leo back!"

"Nikki, Leo has gone. He's not coming back." She stood blankly staring at him, her wrists still in Harry's hands as he willed her to understand the unstated completion of his sentence, before he gave her hands a final shake and let go of her. His mind wandered back to the conversation he'd had with his friends earlier, Beto would have told him to 'stop wasting time and get on with it.' It wouldn't have taken much to have pulled her towards him, rather than push her away. Wasn't that another classic movie end? The one where the hero and heroine have an amazing bust up and mid-fight he grabs her; holds her tight, kisses her hard until she stops trying to escape and finally reciprocates. One look at the fury and agony etched on Nikki's face would burst that fantasy bubble. She was more likely to knee him in the groin than kiss him back, besides it wasn't an attractive look. He hated seeing her this close to the edge, the fringes of her sanity being devoured by her anger.

"We would never have all gone to Afghanistan together," he began to explain more quietly. He wasn't even sure if she was listening but he had to cover the aching silence somehow.

"If I hadn't have left the Lyell," he continued. Leo would have already left; he'd probably have gone to Afghanistan on his own! Do you think that would have been better? He probably still would have got himself killed but he wouldn't have had you there with him. He wouldn't have had you there looking out for him the way you did, watching his back, with him right to the end. You think if I was there Leo wouldn't have been blown up? Or are you still hoping it was me in his place? I suppose you think I would have been too wrapped up in my own pain to have missed the chance of stopping us both from joining him. Is that really what you wanted? For us all to get blown apart with him?" He paused to look at her face, confusion played across her eyes where rage had been only moments before. "You do realise Jack saved your life just as much as Leo did! Don't you?"

Her outburst over, she started listening to Harry's words. She'd never really thought of it like that before. Jack had saved her life. She'd never thanked him. Two hot tears ran down her face and she felt herself begin to tremble. What had she said? What had she done?

"Harry?" she began in a wobbly voice and tentatively took a step towards him.

"So you wish I was dead," he said sadly but stepped back from her advance.

"I'm still so angry Harry; I needed you with me at his funeral. I needed you and you let me down."

"I did," Harry admitted. "I let you down, and I'm sorry. It took me too long to see something I should have noticed from the beginning."

"Which was?"

"You have to stand up for what you believe in, no matter what the consequences. Leo knew how to do that."

"Harry?"

"I'm sorry Nikki. I should have been there for you and I wasn't. I would do anything to make it up to you, but I realise I can't. I am sincerely sorry."

She looked up at him then, he did look sorry. More than sorry, shaken up.

"I'm sorry," she stuttered to a stop only now truly becoming aware of what she had done. "For what I said just now. For what I did. I'm….It's…"

"Hey, I know, it's grief," Harry said roughly. "You rescued me from Tesco metro the other day remember? I know. I do."

She put one hand forward and brushed it gently down the front of his shirt, as if to soothe away her blows of earlier. Her tears were coming thick and fast now.

"Harry, I'm sorry. I'm a mess. I'm so sorry." She gasped out between sobs. He let her cry for a while before awkwardly pulling her against him.

"Shh, now," he whispered into her hair. "It's probably too soon to be doing all this."

"This?" she asked looking up at him, a distant memory playing in her mind.

Harry shook his head and she replaced hers on his shoulder, "Clearing out the books. Do you want to go?" he asked.

He felt her nod against him.

They stood amidst the boxes arms around each other, but there was none of the closeness that Harry remembered. She had her head bowed, so only her crown reached his shoulder, their bodies as distant as their fractured relationship. He had been as direct as he could, told her and written to her that he wanted to be with her and she had said she wished him dead. If that were true his new grand plan wasn't going well, but he was not giving up without a fight.

They stood together unmoving, long after her sobs had stopped. He smoothed her hair with his hand, but didn't dare kiss her as he would have before, in a way he could cope with her saying she wished he was dead, but for her to pull out of his arms or shrug off a kiss would be more than he could bear.

"Come on now," he soothed.

She sniffed and he wiped her cheeks with his thumb.

"I was thinking of driving up to Sheffield on Sunday, would you like to come with me?" Harry asked. "I could take you out to lunch somewhere."

"Sunday at one?" she asked sardonically but gave him a weak smile.

"Please?"

She sniffed again but nodded.

"You alright?"

She wiped a hand across her eyes. "No," she said truthfully. "You?"

"Not really."

"I'm sorry,"

"Me too."

"Are you going home?" he asked.

She nodded.

He held her to him a tiny bit closer before letting go and said, "Ok then," She picked up her bag and made her way towards the study door.

"Thanks for offering," Nikki said cryptically over her shoulder.

"What to take you out to lunch?" She shook her head again. Now she had moved away from him she had gone back to gazing at the floor. He wished he could hold her again and tip her chin up with his hand. "For offering what?"

"To make up that dance."

"Oh,"

"I'm not ready yet," she admitted.

"I know," he replied. "I'm not either."

They stood staring at each other across the room, neither willing to move.

"But you might be one day?" he asked.

"I should go," Nikki said half-heartedly.

"I won't wait forever," he said darkly.

Just then the oven timer went off.

They stood listening to the incessant beeping from the kitchen.

"You hungry?" Harry asked finally breaking the deadlock.

"No," Nikki replied.

"Me neither."

They stood still, caught in the silence between them; but with the oven timer still screaming for attention from the kitchen.

"It's ready now, you could eat it anyway, or I could put it in a pot, you could take it with you."

"I… I?"

"Nikki just eat some food and we'll talk on Sunday, how does that sound?"

She nodded mutely.

He thought she would take the food back out in the garden, to be as far away from him as she could but she sat across from him at the table, the only noise coming from Leo's kitchen clock. Nothing more was said until she went to the door.

"Sunday at one's a bit late for a drive to Sheffield" she called as she pulled the door open.

"Sunday at nine thirty better?" Harry asked and he saw her nod her head. She'd not answered his question about the dance, but she'd not left either and she had initiated the conversation about it, it would take time he would just have to try and be patient.


	41. Chapter 41 Spiegel Im Spiegel

**If ever a piece of classical music could be more Harry and Nikki than this, I'd like to hear it. Do give it a try and be patient it is quite different but you too might find yourself unable to move until it finishes. YouTube: Nicola Benedetti Spiegel im Spiegel.**

* * *

**Chapter Forty-One**

**Sunday 7****th**** July**

**Arvo Part: Spiegel im Spiegel**

It was an understatement to say that Harry was nervous when he rang Nikki's bell at 9:30 that Sunday morning. A trip to Sheffield was going to place them in a confined space for hours at a time and he still hadn't had the time or inclination to figure out Leo's car stereo. There were going to be many hours of silence ahead.

He needn't have worried, her bag was by the door and she was ready to leave but she answered the door with one hand and her phone attached to her ear. When eventually the call and the scribbling on the note pad had finished, Harry knew exactly what she was going to tell him.

"You've been called out," he said.

She nodded. "Sorry."

"Don't be, that's your job. Is it going to take long?"

Nikki looked back at the paper.

"I know you can't tell me." Harry smiled. "I can tell from your face that this is going to be an all-weeker, before you've even got to the scene."

He watched her push her hair back from her face and tie it up.

"Sorry," she repeated.

"It's fine," Harry assured her. "Go to work, do what you do best. It'll take your mind off all this house stuff with Leo and next week maybe we'll be able to get back to the books. You can always call me in as a locum if there's too much work. It would be good to get some actual income; my mother's going to have to guarantee my mortgage as it is. They're not keen on self-employed people."

"I'll call you if we need you." Nikki said. "Say hi to Leo for me."

"Nikki?"

She shrugged.

"He's not there, any more than he's here!"

"I know. I just…"

"It's alright, I'll tell him you miss him. Now you'd better go."

"Do I still get the lunch though?" Nikki asked.

"Lunch?"

"Yes, you were taking me out to lunch."

"Is that the only reason you were coming today?" Harry scoffed, but pleased the mood had lifted slightly.

Nikki shrugged again.

"Next Sunday at one?" Harry asked.

"Great," she replied. "See you then."

##

He'd found the grave easily but once there wasn't really sure what to do.

"Nikki's missing you Leo." He said, his voice blowing away from him. The branches of the trees around the edge were churning in the strong wind, magnifying its sound.

"I miss you too." Harry added after a while. "Sorry I wasn't there for you. I'm trying to be there for her. I know you'd laugh when you know what lengths I'm going to just to do something you told me to. It's probably the only time I haven't gone off, ignored you and done exactly what I wanted. Maybe because you always seemed to know what I wanted better than I did. It's not easy though." Harry sighed and read through the names on the head stone again. The wind whipped his hair across his face and into his eyes making them sting.

"Goodbye my friend," he said and reached down to scoop up a handful of loose mud and throw it against the headstone.

"Goodbye Leo."

##

Harry had found Francis at the bar of the pub he'd suggested.

"Nice to meet you finally; Harry"

"Good to meet you too Francis. Thanks for all you've done."

"Oh, it was nothing. We've not got a large family but we do what we can for each other. I'd not seen Leo in years."

"I've got some of his things, if you're interested. Something to remember him by. Some photo's maybe you'd like a look later."

"Maybe I would," Francis agreed. "It were a lovely service, went off really well. There was a good turn out too. Leo would have been proud. His sister in law even made it down to London for it. I don't think she and Leo had spoken since her sister's death. I know it was an accident and Leo wasn't responsible but it's funny what stories people choose to believe about others instead of really getting to know them."

"It's hard to really get to know someone." Harry admitted. "Leo never had any trouble though. He always wore his heart on his sleeve."

"He was just the same growing up. He was always the first to invite the new kid to join in whatever we were doing. Usually just kicking a ball about the street but Leo wouldn't have anyone left out."

"Sometimes it got annoying though," Harry said tentatively.

"Didn't it just!" Francis guffawed and slapped Harry on the back. "Thanks for making the trip. I'm glad to have met you Harry. Leo made a good choice choosing you to be his friend. Shame you couldn't get back for the funeral. How's Nikki doing?"

"She's found it difficult. She was coming today but then got called into work."

Francis nodded.

"Thanks for taking the time to meet me, Harry."

"It was my pleasure," Harry said honestly trying to think when he had met a stranger in America and had such an easy conversation.

"Shall I come and look at the things?" Francis asked.

"I brought all the pictures I could find of Leo when he was younger. Maybe you're in one? I have those here." Harry reached into his bag and pulled out a small pile of black and white pictures.

"Here I am!" Francis said after the third or fourth picture. He showed it to Harry. Two boys smiled up at the camera, even in black and white it was clear their knees were muddy, their shorts slightly too short and their smiles punctuated by missing teeth. "I'd like to keep that one, if you don't mind."

"Be my guest." Harry smiled and ordered them both another pint.

##

The pub was on the banks of a canal, so when Francis left Harry walked along the towpath for a couple of miles and back. Firstly for something to do and secondly to work off the two pints he'd had before driving back to London. The wind had dropped but it was still coming from the east making the summer sunshine feel cold especially in the shaded sections of the path.

It was dark by the time Harry got back to London. Not proper dark. Not like driving through the streets at 5pm on a winter's afternoon. A lighter dark, the bright sky stretching across the road dipping to duck egg blue at the horizon and highlighted by the vapour trails of the planes to Heathrow. But the trees and houses on the side of the road were already cloaked by darkness making them shadowy and foreboding. The streets were deserted and the traffic lights of London shone brightly in the emptiness. It must have rained; there was an unmistakeable smell of summer rain. A freshness emanated from the baked tarmac and an earthy smell from the gardens. To keep him awake for the last few miles of his journey Harry had taken to fiddling with the radio whilst waiting at the lights.

He'd managed to retune it away from Heart, but there didn't seem to be any logical way of finding the next station. Finally through the mess of static he managed to home in on a signal. It sounded classical but anything was better than nothing. There was a piano playing a simple phrase over and over, it was gentle and hypnotic, repetitive but fascinating all at the same time. He carried on listening as a stringed instrument violin, cello he wasn't sure joined the piano. He'd never heard anything like it. It wasn't the usual hum along classic that ClassicFM usually put out. He drove through the quiet London streets back to Leo's, back home, he realised as the streets became more and more familiar to him.

He reversed onto Leo's drive still mesmerized by the piece of music. He couldn't turn the engine off until the music had reached its conclusion and he discovered whether the steady dependability of the piano ever united with the soaring lament of the violin. The two instruments did play the same rhythm briefly and in the same register and he remained where he was so he could find out what the piece was.

He sat on the drive, and felt as if he belonged somewhere. A year in New York was an exciting adventure but he was never at home, there was always something different about him. Something to give him away as a stranger. But here he felt he was on the right path, he was doing what he should be doing and he felt a calmness and peace about it just as the music had had. Not that it wasn't complex for all its simplicity nor was it totally joyful. Happiness and sadness you had to have them both, Harry recalled his fortune cookie telling him the night he'd returned.

Nikki had accused him of not being angry, or not showing his temper but it wasn't that he didn't feel angry, he just felt more in control for once.

He looked in the rear view mirror at Leo's front door and pictured his friend stood there welcoming him in as he had done so often in the past. He was pleased to see that in his mind's eye the Leo in the mirror was smiling at him.

* * *

**Arvo Part: Spiegel im Spiegel**


	42. Chapter 42 I Won't Give Up On Us

**For all of you who have been patiently waiting...we're getting close now. Thanks for all your support.**

* * *

**Chapter Forty-Two**

**Sunday 14****th**** July**

**I won't give up on us**

Harry had been back for two weeks and in some ways it felt like forever but at other times he felt just as much out of place in London as he had done in America. Stupid things caught him out like trying to push open the front doors of buildings that had to be pulled, mistyping on an English style keyboard and looking the wrong way when crossing the road.

Thursday had been a case in point, they had talked on the phone on Wednesday night and Harry had complained about running out of boxes, so Nikki had promised to drop some round during her lunch break on Thursday. It was no doubt a peace offering to make up for her behaviour but he wasn't picky.

He opened Leo's door to a mass of cardboard, only Nikki's impossibly high shoes poking out at the bottom.

"There's another load in the car," she'd said as he squashed himself against the wall to let her pass. She had followed him down the drive as he prepared to cross the road to her car.

"Harry!" she had screeched, grabbed his arm and pulled him back onto the pavement, just as a cycle courier had zipped past yelling obscenities and calling him an idiot.

Harry stood dazed on the pavement; he must have looked the wrong way and not heard the cyclist coming. If Nikki hadn't have grabbed him he'd have been splattered in the road, along with the cyclist who had been flying along. The realisation of what had actually happened took a while to register and then he was stunned to find that he was still stood at the edge of the road with his arms tight around his friend, closer than they had been since he returned and that she was shaking as much as he was.

They had stood at the side of the road clinging on to each other long after the danger had passed. Both of them drawing strength from the other; the closeness of their bodies healing the wounds that their fight had inflicted. The sudden shock had broken through the barriers they had erected between them and for once the silence between them was filled with all that they wanted to say but couldn't find the words for.

"You don't want me dead," Harry had gasped with relief. Thinking how easy it would have been for her to stand back and do nothing, her actions assuring him that her words of the other evening were not true. He felt her shake her head against him.

"Thank you," he'd muttered quietly, his face still buried in her neck.

"I'm so sorry," she had said and he'd heard the shake in her voice. "I can't believe I did that the other night, I can't believe I hit you like that."

"I deserved it," Harry said simply. "You have every right to be angry with me, I'm sorry I missed that funeral. I should have come back, I should have just let NYU get mad at me for a couple of days, they'd have gotten over it. I should have been here for you."

"NYU?" Nikki questioned.

"Well Candy mostly. Until I left I didn't realise how much she was manipulating me. Jorge had told me. I just didn't see it myself. I'm sorry. She always had another agenda."

"Why didn't you stop me?" Nikki asked her face tucked against his shirt and the now steady beat of his heart in her ear. "You could have easily stopped me."

"I told you, I deserved it." He could feel her looking at him, asking another unspoken question without even seeing her face.

"Nikki, it will never happen again," he said in a stern voice, "but you do know that no matter how much you provoke me. I will not retaliate. I would never hurt you like that. Don't you think I've hurt you enough?"

"Harry," she whispered and pulled him closer.

"You really think this could be possible?" she whispered. He could feel her begin to tremble again in his arms.

"I have to believe this is possible."

"And you don't believe in fantasy."

"No I don't," he agreed.

He knew his trembling now wasn't anything to do with his near miss with a cyclist.

Eventually she'd pulled away and looked him in the eye and asked if they were alright without saying a word.

Then she had disappeared back to work and he had gone back to clearing Leo's house but he hated the mistakes. It was humiliating. He accepted the errors he made in New York as did everyone else. He only had to open his mouth and his accent gave him away but here on his home turf it was just mortifying. The feel of Nikki's arms around him holding him tight and keeping him safe was worth it. She'd shouted that she wanted him dead, but here she was pulling him out of danger and clinging onto him as if she was drowning and he was the only thing keeping her afloat. Finally it seemed as if they had taken a step forward.

##

He thought later about what he should do when they met up on Sunday. He knew she'd been busy at work that week; he wanted to give her a chance to relax when he took her out. He needed to do something, take her a gift of some kind but what could he take her? Flowers? He didn't want it to seem like a date. He didn't want to scare her off. The last time he had bought her flowers he'd taken her some cut sunflowers and that was as a peace offering after she had found out he was leaving and they'd had an almighty row. No he wouldn't take flowers.

He thought back to the Sunday before, she'd been on the phone and he'd had been wandering about trying to notice what had changed in her house in the year he'd been away. She had got a new picture, he'd not thought anything of it at the time, but now with all his thoughts about flowers it reminded him. The picture was a field of sunflowers. There was hardly space for sky just row upon row of sunflowers. Was it significant? He wondered. He hated to admit it, but Leo's dodgy car stereo music had even given him the idea.

'_You don't bring me flowers,'_

Had been the song that he couldn't turn off the first time he'd done battle with the radio.

He didn't want to give her something that was ending. He wanted a new beginning.

His plans were growing, his website was about to go live, Leo's house was getting clear. The loft was done, the shed and one of the spare bedrooms. There were still masses of books in the study waiting for a time when they could work on it together. The only thing that wasn't progressing was somewhere for Harry to buy and live. Every place he looked at was falling apart, or wouldn't be practical. The only one he'd liked had had paper thin walls and the kid next door was learning to play the piano. Harry had only spent twenty minutes looking around and he'd hummed that piano tune for the rest of the day.

"It's not the violin," the estate agent had said cheerily.

"I don't think it'll work."

##

He wondered about the reception he'd receive this week as his finger hovered over the doorbell. She could have staged the call last week to get out of spending time with him. However she had never been duplicitous in the past. He would have to trust her.

"Oh, lovely thanks Harry just what I wanted, a tub of mud," Nikki said sarcastically as he handed over the red plant pot and dish.

"Just you wait," he replied.

This one wasn't cut and just waiting to die. This one was planted ready to grow.

She placed the pot on her windowsill.

"What I just wait?" she asked.

"You might need to water it occasionally. You'll manage."

"It's a big responsibility!" Nikki insisted.

Harry laughed.

"What's all this?" Harry asked pointing at the pile of bed linen in the middle of the floor.

"Oh, my washing machine is on the fritz, sometimes it works sometimes it doesn't."

"Oh," Harry paused. "Why don't I take it with me and use Leo's machine?"

Nikki looked at the pile. It was only sheets, there weren't any clothes. There was nothing intimate in there.

"That sounds like a great idea," she agreed.

"I thought we might try a pub for lunch? What do you think?" Harry knew this was a risk. Things were still unpredictable between them, the smallest thing could set her off and the tears often came. She would feel safer here, or in Leo's garden.

"Why not?" she replied decisively.

"Let's go then," Harry had replied and offered her his arm for the first time since his return.

Harry imagined Beto laughing at him for taking his time, but Harry thought if he did get this right, time was the one thing they would have plenty of. He could wait, not for much longer but he could wait for now.

"Nikki?" He asked as they drove along, his face studiously watching the traffic. "Do you remember talking to me about pear drops once?"

"Vaguely," Nikki lied. She'd known at the time it should have been their last ever conversation, she remembered every word.

"Why?"

"We were just talking about how to make decisions."

"We?"

"Your mother and I."

"Oh,"

Harry manoeuvred round a roundabout.

"She must have told you about my early childhood trauma at the pick and mix counter."

"Yes," Nikki agreed.

"And you thought you were my pear drop, the thing I always got but never actually wanted."

Nikki looked out of the window to the side, glad that Harry's gaze was on the traffic and not looking into her darkness and mire of insecurities. "I did."

"Believe me Nikki," Harry said, taking his eyes of the road for a second to meet hers. "I have always wanted you in my life, from the first moment I met you. You have never ever been my pear drop."

"It never felt like I was first choice," she said quietly to the window. "There was always something else, or someone else, or the case or…"

"That's all changed Nikki. Please don't think you're not my first choice."

"I'm not though…" she said grudgingly.

"No, you're my only choice. You're the only woman I want."

They travelled on in silence for a while and Nikki excused herself to the ladies as soon as they arrived. Harry fiddled with the ten pound note in his hand waiting to attract the barman's attention. He'd frightened her off again; she'd probably walked straight out of the fire exit at the back. They'd been at this pub years before, it hadn't changed that much. In fact it looked a bit sad and neglected, nothing like the sort of bar he'd go to with Jorge. Even the music was drab and non-descript. The barman was still ignoring him, Harry looked back towards the ladies but there was no sign of Nikki. He tuned into the music for the chorus.

_I won't give up on us  
Even if the skies get rough  
I'm giving you all my love  
I'm still looking up._

He wouldn't give up. He'd had to promise his mother as much when he'd seen her that week. She'd avoided the topic of Nikki the first few times they'd seen each other, but the conversation had to come, just as the one about when he was going to remove the boxes of stuff from his flat that were still at her house did.

She'd not exactly asked what his intentions were, not with so many words. She'd asked how Nikki was first of all and Harry's honest answer had been, "A mess."

"Are you going to try and help her?" his mother had asked.

"I am."

"You're not going to make it worse?"

"I'm going to try not to,"

"She'll need time," his mother had pronounced wisely.

The barman had finally broken his conversation and asked Harry for his order, he'd asked for a pint and was about to say that was all when he felt Nikki brush against his arm.

"I'll have a white wine please," she asked, receiving the barman's full attention. Harry decided he was sending her to get the next round.

"What?" she asked as they sipped their drinks.

"I'd forgotten how beautiful you are?" he suggested.

"No you hadn't."

Harry shrugged and looked around, he couldn't really explain what he was feeling.

"You're missing it."

"Eh?"

"New York, You're missing it."

"I suppose I am."

"This pub's a bit different to that gay bar you took me too."

Harry laughed into his pint.

"You wouldn't even let me walk down the street outside it was so rough," Nikki continued.

"Too bloody right I wouldn't, No this place isn't quite like that is it."

"I had fun though," Nikki smiled.

"I did too," he said and returned her smile and for once she held his gaze.

* * *

**I won't give up on us: Jason Mraz**

**Also if you need a laugh try 'The ukulele orchestra of Great Britain,' version of 'You don't bring me flowers.' I love Neil Diamond but this version is very funny.**


	43. Chapter 43 He's A Liar

**It's very quiet out there…maybe you're all back at college and working hard… Or maybe Nikki's psychosis is putting you off? Thanks to greylostwho and Freya82 for taking the time to review.**

* * *

**Chapter Forty-Three**

**Sunday 21****st**** July**

'**But he's a liar and I'm not sure about you.'**

Another Sunday, and Harry had another nervous wait on Nikki's doorstep. They'd talked briefly in the week, Harry had been in to LSSE to discuss the teaching they wanted him to do for the upcoming year. He'd had lunch with Matthew his old friend from neuroscience.

"So, you're back," Matthew had begun.

Harry had nodded but concentrated more on carrying his plate of food over to a table in the LSSE cafeteria.

"You had success though," Harry added.

"What? Me?"

"Your mission."

"My what?" Matthew looked at Harry with a confused look. "Oh, keeping Stretch away from Nikki. That wasn't my doing."

"What made him leave?"

"His father I think; was taken ill. He went back to Scotland to be with him. Stretch fell in love with the Macmillan nurse that came to the house every day. Apparently they'd known each other at primary school, so he handed in his notice and never came back."

Harry forked some slightly dubious student cafeteria curry into his mouth and nodded at Matthew. "It's a good story, happy ever after?" Harry said slightly sarcastically.

"Not entirely, his father was dying."

"How about you? Wife ok? How are the kids?"

"They're good thanks, number three is due before Christmas. We're really excited!"

Harry smiled up at his old friend, his life was so different.

"No chance of me jetting off to New York, with a new job." Matthew added.

"Oh I don't know," Harry said naively and the look Matthew gave him confirmed Harry's ignorance.

"I can't pull Philip out of school and move him across the world, he's just started his GCSE coursework, it wouldn't be fair."

"Fair point," Harry agreed eager to change the subject. He was thinking back to what Matthew had said about Stretch, he'd returned to his father when he was ill. Beto had gone back to Colombia to be with his mother after her heart attack. Who would go visit him when he reached old age? It wasn't a comfortable thought.

"Congratulations on number three!" Harry said trying to be positive.

"It was something of a surprise, but we've got our heads round it now. How's Nikki?"

"She didn't take Leo's death too well."

"I've not heard that there have been any problems over in that department though, she must be working like a Trojan. The new one, he seems pretty on the ball. His name has come up in a number of meetings."

"Eh?"

"All for good reasons. Jack isn't it?" Harry nodded. "Leo did well to appoint him."

"You must miss him too." Matthew had added after a beat.

"I do." Harry had agreed.

"So tell me all about NYU!" Matthew had asked and Harry gave him the edited highlights.

"Right I should get back to work," Matthew had said. "Good to have you back Harry." He shook his friend's hand and left him alone in the cafeteria. Harry hadn't the heart to go straight home, so popped his head round the door of his old office.

"Hi Harry, what are you doing here?" Nikki asked.

"I was just getting a new security pass, discussing hours that sort of thing."

"Do you want a coffee?"

Harry could feel the lunch weighing heavily in his stomach and a slightly bitter taste in his mouth. "No, I'm fine. Thanks."

He looked across at his desk. It looked just the same as before he'd left only Nikki was sitting on her side for once. He cast his eyes in the direction of Leo's office.

"It's weird," Harry had admitted.

"Tell me about it," Nikki had replied grimly

He knew now how uncomfortable being in Leo's house must have made her feel. She had to work all day in the office, with the door to Leo's office permanently shut. It wasn't any surprise that by the end of the work day she'd had enough. Being back at the Lyell was deeply unsettling.

"I should be going," he said hastily. "You still ok for Sunday?"

"Sunday at one?"

Harry nodded and she nodded back.

"See you then."

"Bye."

It had taken most of the afternoon to get over his feeling of unease, and even on Sunday he still felt tetchy, fed up. He couldn't explain it, but something wasn't quite right. It hadn't helped that he'd put in an offer on a house that the estate agent had sworn that no one else was interested in and that the vendors would be sure to take an offer on, only to find that someone else had offered earlier that morning at the full asking price. He hated the disingenuousness and had told the estate agent so. Only not quite so politely.

Nikki had answered the door with a big smile, but scurried off quickly, calling behind her as she went.

"Give me five minutes, I'm nearly ready."

"You look fine," he called to her back. They were only having lunch together at a pub.

Harry felt his stomach rumble and sat at her kitchen table. It could be a long wait. In a way he was glad she was taking time to get ready it showed that she was taking a bit more care of herself. It wasn't as if she'd been slouching about in sweat pants and a hoodie the first day he had returned, not physically but mentally she had been.

"Any luck on the house search?" she called.

"No," he shouted back angrily. "You don't want to go there!" He could only just hear her over the music she had playing in her room. He strained to make out the words.

'_There's a guy works down the chip shop swears he's Elvis,_

_Just like you swore to me that you'd be true._

_There's a guy works down the chip shop swears he's Elvis;_

_But he's a liar and I'm not sure about you.'_

The music or the thoughts on his disastrous house search just depressed him more; he got up from the table and started to wander about her kitchen. He spotted his plant pot on the window sill. It still looked as it had the week before when he gave it to her.

"Have you been watering this?" he called.

"Eh?"

Harry poured some water into the tray.

"Ready," announced Nikki as she stepped through the door.

Harry gave her a weak smile. She'd got some colour back, maybe it was the heat wave and the chance for some vitamin D but her skin had lost some of the wan look, and her eyes didn't seem as deeply shadowed as before. He wondered if she'd finally started to take the antidepressants. Or maybe the insomnia was passing.

"You alright?" she asked. Harry looked up at her trying to assess whether she was just being polite or whether she genuinely wanted to know. They were talking but there was something superficial about their conversations. Despite hoping that things might be moving forward between them if he was honest with himself there was no apparent change.

He shrugged a non-committal response.

"Shall we just walk to the Crown up the road? Or did you have plans?" Nikki asked.

"The Crown," sounds fine. "I fancy a burger; do you think they do them?"

"Where doesn't do burgers?"

"It could have turned into one of those ultra fancy places where they serve tiny bits of food all piled up in a clump in the middle of a plate and decorated by some strange colour sauce."

"Have you been watching MasterChef?"

"Or one of those chains where you can get two meals for a tenner."

"What's wrong with that?"

"Nikki!" he growled.

"It's just like it always was."

"Come on, let's go then." he said.

* * *

**Kirsty Maccoll: There's a guy works down the chip shop swears he Elvis**


	44. Chapter 44 Forgive Me

**Chapter Forty-Four**

**Sunday 21****st**** July**

**Forgive me**

They had better luck at the bar, but then it was Nikki's turn to buy. They took their drinks to a table and sat in silence for a bit. Harry tried to think of something to chat about and failed to find a subject that wouldn't depress him further.

"What is it about coming out with me that reminds you so much of them, I mean is it me? Or the pubs?"

"Hunh?"

"Your long face. Your far away look. Is it just because we always come to pubs?"

"I don't know. It is a bit odd. Maybe they reminded me of you."

"What?"

"I mean when I was there in New York, they reminded me of you so now I'm back, maybe you remind me of them. Maybe?"

"How on earth did they ever remind you of me?" Nikki laughed. "An Elvis impersonating doorman and his lawyer lover?"

"They were good friends to me," Harry thought quickly thought of all the things that they used to laugh at together. "They used to make me work hard. They enjoyed telling me when I was wrong. They often used to make fun of me, call me names and they weren't averse to giving me the odd punch on the arm. There are lots of similarities." Harry hoped that Nikki wouldn't take his comment about the punch on the arm to refer to the other punches she'd let fly at him. He was hoping they had moved on from that.

Nikki rolled her eyes, "I used to tell you when you were wrong!" she said in mock surprise and with deep sarcasm.

Harry continued despite her interruption.

"They looked out for me, took care of me, rang me up when they knew I was down, when I needed to be reminded about something, fed me, hugged me, watched crappy TV with me, made me feel important." Harry paused and met her gaze.

"They were good friends to me. They loved me."

Nikki had looked back down to her drink.

"It's not like that between us now though is it?" she said sadly.

Harry shook his head, his gaze on his drink.

"It wasn't totally the same," he added quietly.

"What?"

"I mean I never fancied them, they didn't look as good as you do in a dress and I never wanted to sleep with them."

"Have you heard from them?" Nikki asked to keep from dwelling on Harry's last words.

Harry nodded and took a sip of his pint. "He's making an album."

"It's incredible." Nikki smiled.

"Jorge always did like to make the impossible look easy."

"With a bit of help from me," she added. "You wouldn't have won that prize if Leo and I hadn't stumped up the entrance fee for that competition. Do you think I'm entitled to any royalties?"

Harry shook his head.

"Guess what I found this week?"

"What?"

"The entire set of Ben Stein books!"

"All six of them?"

"Yep, two of them are signed by the author. The first one is probably mine, didn't we both read it?"

"Yes, it was great, I couldn't put it down. I didn't think Leo enjoyed thrillers though."

"I must have leant him one, it looks like my old copy. The corners of some of the pages were turned over so I know you must have read it, I still don't know why you can't use a book mark like civilised people."

"I haven't read the last two."

"Why not, I thought you loved them?"

"I did."

"And?"

"Well after you'd gone…" Nikki stopped short.

"It's alright Nikki, I know why you didn't read them."

"I think he went off a bit in book four, isn't that the one where Vann escapes from Havana?"

"I think you're right, and just happens to find a helicopter he can steal and fly."

"It's coming back to me now."

"You can have them if you like, I haven't read book six, it's the last one ever. Do you think he'll kill Vann off?"

"Depends how rich Ben Stein wants to be," Nikki answered. "Didn't I hear they were making the first one into a film?"

"They'd better not cast Bruce Willis, or Tom Cruise as Vann Knight, it just wouldn't be right."

"I think he's writing non-fiction now, something really peculiar, I can't think what it is now, but it will come back to me…" Nikki twizzled a beer mat, closed her eyes and screwed up her nose as she tried to remember.

"Something about the war, I think…"

"But that's not a million miles away from the Vann Knight series."

"The Holocaust! He's writing a survivor's account of the Holocaust." Nikki said triumphantly, pleased to have accessed the memory.

"That might be different to his old stuff."

Their conversation was cut short by the arrival of their food.

"Don't complain that there are no crisps or a pickle/gherkin whatever," she hissed at him as his burger was put in front of him.

It was a burger, but the kitchen had tried to jazz it up with 'artisan' bread. It was just a posh name for a really crusty roll, which made it was almost impossible to bite through. Maybe he should have ordered the fish and chips. "No complaints from me," he lied.

##

"What's wrong?" asked Nikki as they walked back along the road.

"What's right?" Harry asked cynically.

"I don't know how to make it better." Nikki replied.

They walked on in silence for a while.

"You have to start trusting me again," Harry said.

"I do trust you Harry, I've always trusted you."

"But I let you down so many times, disappointed you, left you when you needed me…"

"Nobody's perfect. Most of the times you were there when I needed you most." The exception to this although unstated hung in the air between them like a bad smell, tainting everything around it.

"I'm tired of just being pleasant with you, I want my friend back the one I can talk to about how I really feel, not just have flashes of honestly when we scream at each other. I don't want to feel like I'm forever talking through the intercom on the closed security door, I want to be let in."

"I thought I was trying, I thought it was getting better."

They walked on in silence but neither of them noticed the gardens they passed, the summer flowers or the rapidly browning grass.

"You have to forgive me," Harry declared after another hundred yards or so.

"Forgive you?"

"I've apologised a million times, I have tried to make amends. I've taken a beating for it. I have tried to show you how serious I am, how much I want to be with you, how I am still in love with you. But I'm not getting anywhere Nikki, because you are holding your hurt in front of you like a massive shield and anything I do or say just gets deflected away from you." He could feel his grumpiness turning to anger. He didn't want another fight with her, but fighting did break through their artificial politeness.

"I don't know how to." Nikki admitted.

"Why was it so important to you that I was there?" Harry asked. Finally realising he had found the key question. That one question that meant the rest of the disparate parts of the puzzle would fall into place.

"It was Leo's funeral Harry; of course you should have been there!"

"Why?" he goaded.

"Because!"

"Why Nikki?"

"Why? Because I thought he was your friend, I thought you cared about him. I thought I was your friend…"

"Nikki what would you have done differently if I had been there?" He left her to ponder his question. They had passed her house minutes before, but both just continued walking.

"So I might have sat next to you in church?" Harry suggested. "You were still going to give the eulogy on your own. If I had been there, it would have just shown everyone that I was the prodigal son, the one that had left and you were the dutiful one who'd stayed behind and always did what you were told. Is that what you needed? Someone sat next to you to make you look good? Jack wasn't enough of a reprobate?"

"Harry that's not it…" she asserted but thinking carefully as to what would have been different she was beginning to follow Harry's train of thought.

"You know why I didn't come back?" Harry continued not expecting the stock answers returned to him that he had trotted out in the months since. "Besides not being able to take the time off, the trouble at work, the trouble with Candy and the prohibitive expense of the flights. I was frightened Nikki."

"Frightened?"

"I was frightened that if I came back and you still didn't talk to me, that you ignored me then I would know for sure that it was over between us and I would have lost two people I loved that day and not just the one. I couldn't cope with you ending things finally between us, until that point I had the hope that our distance was purely a physical problem, but if I went back and you pushed me away again, I would know that all had been lost."

"Harry?" she said quietly.

"And then there was frightening option two, I went back and in some frenzy of grief, jet lag and emotional exhaustion that we would push things too far between us. I'm not suggesting a quick shag in the graveyard, but Nikki you know how close we were that weekend in New York. If we'd gone out for a drink or had one too many at the wake, I know I wouldn't have the strength to say 'no,' and then I'd be stuck back in New York, possibly with you not talking to me and my heart irreparably broken and feeling like a monster. Can't you understand why I couldn't come back? I had everything to lose."

"But by not coming back, you still lost."

"Please don't say that Nikki." He stopped and ran his hand up her arm. "Please. I was a coward, but I'm here now. Please forgive me. Please try."

He saw a tear roll down her cheek but saw her nod her head.

"Do you know what Leo said to me, before you went to Afghanistan?"

"No?"

"Don't come back for me, come back for her."

"I'm sure he always did think we should be together." She replied with a sigh, another tear tracking down her face.

"I couldn't find a way to get back for him. He'd told me not to; he told me he'd be dead and that he wouldn't know the difference. I'm sorry I wasn't there at the time Nikki. But I'm here now. Please believe me. I am really sorry."

"I know you are Harry. You've never been a liar. I'm sorry too. I just haven't been able to see clearly recently.

For the first time since Harry's return, she reached out to him, tucked her hands behind his head and pulled his head down to plant a kiss on his forehead. "I will try and forgive you Harry, I'm sorry too. I probably would have done the same if it were me."

Harry let out a great shuddering sigh, the weight that had been crushing him suddenly lifting.

"Thank you." He whispered against her cheek. "Thank you." And instead of pulling away, he felt her pull him closer.


	45. Chapter 45 Growing

**Chapter Forty-Five **

**Sunday 28****th**** July**

**Growing**

They'd agreed on another lunch the following Sunday. He hadn't spoken to her much during the week. She'd come over on Wednesday evening, even offered to cook, it was a pierce the lid and microwave affair, but Harry wasn't complaining. With every day she seemed to gain colour and more substance. The walking ghost that had screamed at him when he'd rung her doorbell a month or so back was fading and a softer more alive Nikki was emerging.

She'd needed to do several loads of washing and after a couple of glasses of wine waiting for it to finish she had decided to sleep in the spare room. The atmosphere between them was changing. Now the house was empty of much of Leo's stuff, Nikki was coping better or maybe it was because the fractures in their relationship were beginning to heal.

He still wondered about the reaction he would receive as he rung her doorbell.

"It's growing!" she said excitedly as she flung the door open to him. "Come and look!"

Harry followed her through to the kitchen to see a small green shoot; the seed case still attached emerging from the earth in his pot.

"It actually grew!" she squealed excitedly.

"Yes it did," Harry agreed with a big smile.

The pub this week was busy but not heaving, they took a table outside on the bank of the Thames. The weather was almost as hot as New York, up in the thirties.

"I thought about joining a rowing club." Harry admitted as they watched an eight row smoothly passed them.

"Do you think you'll have time?"

"I'd have to make time, I think I was worried about being isolated, as much as I didn't like people getting in your face and strangers talking to you in America, I thought London might be lonely if I worked on my own all the time."

"So why haven't you?"

"Because after cutting Leo's hedge with the world's heaviest hedge trimmer and battling the foot high grass, if I exercised my arms any more I'd look like Popeye!"

Nikki laughed and gave one of his biceps a squeeze, and raised an eyebrow at him. "You don't want to find somewhere else you could sing?"

Harry shook his head.

"But why not, you were so good, you are good."

"I can't."

"You could if you wanted to. You won't," she said perceptively. "It would remind you too much of them? You really do miss them don't you?"

"I really do," Harry admitted and then laughed.

"I don't know what they'd make of this place."

"Not there style?"

"Not a bit."

"None of them are!"

They sipped their drinks in silence.

The work they had done last weekend had done much to restore their friendship, but in all that Harry was sorting out, one thing remained and that was the question of where to set up his office. The sale of his flat had gone through. The tenant was due to move out at the end of the month and there was already a buyer lined up to move in from the 1st of August. He'd soon have the capital he just needed a property.

"So what's so difficult about finding office space?" Nikki asked. "Show me what you've looked at."

Harry pulled his tablet from his bag and showed Nikki the houses he'd seen that week and listed what exactly was wrong with them.

"Too big, too small, wrong location, too much renovation, no parking, no office space, office space but terrible living accommodation." Harry rattled off, clicking through a series of screens.

"Alright grumpy."

"It's just so depressing," Harry whined. He was beyond frustrated with his fruitless search.

"Maybe you're just not looking for the right thing?"

"What do you suggest?"

Harry clicked back to the homepage to type in the new parameters.

"You don't really want to live above a shop do you?" Nikki asked.

Harry paused, he had been to see a number of properties like this, they seemed to make the most sense but the flats were uniformly grotty and depressing.

"What about locations? Have you specified locations?"

"I've tried to keep them within a twenty minute drive of the Lyell," Harry fixed the postcode and distance variables.

"Oh give it here," Nikki demanded. "It can't be that hard." She quickly tapped in some numbers and looked at the results.

"No, no, no, no," she muttered her finger flicking across the screen. She tapped in some more, Harry was bored. He'd been giving himself Sunday afternoons off, no house clearance, no cleaning, no setting up work stuff just some space to clear his head.

"What about this?" Nikki asked.

"It's a family house, has an annexe that was once used as a dental surgery, it has parking, it's fifteen minutes from the Lyell. Look it even has a garden!" Nikki said excitedly.

"I don't believe you, you're making it up. I have estate agents phoning me every ten minutes during the day thinking they've found me the next wonder property and none of them have mentioned an old dentist's."

"Just have a look Harry." She scrolled through the pictures starting from the garden and the back through the house. She was moving them so quickly Harry could hardly keep up.

"Hang on, that must have had three bedrooms!" Harry gasped. "Why would I need a house with three bedrooms?"

"Stuff the number of bedrooms Harry and look at the annexe."

"It'll need updating, they haven't even shown a picture of the kitchen and you know what that means…"

"Look at that house Harry!" Nikki cooed as she reached the front picture. A smart double fronted white Georgian detached house stood proudly at the front of the screen, all it would need would be a trailing rose and it was the archetypal English house.

"That house is not in London," Harry scoffed. "Are you sure you didn't hit Londonderry by accident?"

"I don't think there are houses like that in Derry," Nikki said.

Harry grabbed the computer and looked at the address.

"It's close to the river, you could still do your rowing and it's not far from Kew Gardens." Nikki prattled on.

Harry scratched his head; there was something too good to be true about this property.

"It says it's on St Cecilia Road…There's probably a massive church next door with over enthusiastic campanologists. I don't want to be woken up every Sunday at the crack of dawn when they start to ring the bells."

Nikki shook her head at him and the waiter arrived and delivered their meals.

"Nikki!" Harry screeched making the waiter jump, and spill some of Harry's beer.

"Sorry," Harry apologised.

"Err, enjoy your meal, the teenager muttered and promptly disappeared."

"You changed the price. That house is £850,000!"

"It's beautiful though isn't it?"

"It doesn't matter it's out of my price range. I was working as a teacher in New York, we didn't get crazy bonuses. If we were lucky we got a pen and some NYU post its."

Nikki had grabbed the tablet back and was trying to get a google earth picture of the house in between eating mouthfuls of salad.

"Why don't we drive over and see it later?" she asked.

"Nikki you are insane! I can't afford it; I can't even get close to affording it."

"But you do like it? It is what you were looking for?"

"It's exactly what I was looking for," Harry admitted enjoying his Yorkshire pudding. He did miss a decent bagel but Yorkshire pudding was worth being in England for.

"Let's go and see it," Nikki begged.

"Why? What good will it do?" Harry asked.

"Well maybe it will inspire you to take on a business partner. Someone to help fund your start up costs?"

"The point of doing all this, was to be my own boss not be beholden to someone else." Harry stopped chewing, his roast potato sticking to the inside of his mouth. He took a sip of his beer and looked hard at Nikki. She was smiling and her eyes were smiling. She was smiling in a way that he hadn't seen her smile for a very long time. Not since she'd shown up unannounced at LaGuardia.

"Nikki?"

She continued to smile.

"I promised I would not take your share of Leo's money. It's yours. I won't take it."

"What if I want to give it to you?"

"Why? To become my business partner?"

Harry took another sip of his drink, something was moving between them and he had to get his answer right, he had been playing a careful game up until now, trying not to upset her, trying to help her through the dark days before asking her what he really wanted to ask her.

"If you'll have me," she said shyly.

"You know I don't want you as my business partner…" Nikki's eyes snapped up to his, hurt and anger already hovering in her eyes. "You do still know that I want more? I want it all. I don't want you just to be my business partner. I want you as my life partner Nikki. And I want that decision to be yours when you're ready, not because I can't find office space."

He watched her bite her lip and push salad around her plate for a while.

"I think," Nikki began, remembering a conversation they'd had a couple of weeks back.

"I think I might be ready soon, to make up that dance we missed."

Harry closed his mouth realising it had dropped open when he had started to stare at her, and prayed it wasn't still full of food.

"If I make an appointment to go see this place, will you come with me?"

Nikki nodded. "I will," she smiled.

"How's the salad?" he asked.

"I'm enjoying it, it's good. How's the roast?"

"It's good too, I haven't had a Sunday roast in ages!"

"Worth coming back for?"

"What this roast? There might be a few other things I missed more."

"A few?"

"No," he replied. "Not a few. Just you." And just as she had in the pub a fortnight ago she held his gaze and smiled.

* * *

**Lots of things setting up in these three, let me know what you have figured out : )**


	46. Chapter 46 St Cecilia Road

**Sorry it's been a bit of a wait, nearly there now. Thanks for reading.**

* * *

**Chapter Forty-Six**

**Tuesday 30th July**

**St Cecilia Road**

They went to see the house late in the afternoon. It was striking, beautiful even, or it would be beautiful. It had been neglected recently and obviously needed some attention. The estate agent was standing by the drive; she was new or a temp and looked distinctly flustered. She was searching through an oversized handbag and unaware of their approach.

"I don't recognise this one," Harry said, as they drew near to the mature lady.

"So you've got a whole bunch of estate agent girlies showing you round London at the moment?"

"You'd better believe it and none of them look like this one."

"I bet they don't," Nikki agreed but under her breath.

He might not have heard the comment but he could read the expression on her face. Harry couldn't help but wonder why she was here with him, what was in it for her?

"I'd forgotten…" he blurted out.

"This isn't going to be another cheesy TV line is it?" Nikki asked.

"No, it's just that you don't have an ulterior motive."

"Pardon?"

"All this time, I've just assumed that you were only doing this, helping me because of what you could get out of it, but you're not, you're just helping me because you can, because you might conceivably want me to be happy…"

She looked up at him, "Of course I want you to be happy. Why wouldn't I?"

It wasn't that long ago, you were screaming that you wished I was dead, Harry thought, but knew better than to say it.

"It was the American way… Everyone was just looking out for themselves. It's taken me this long to realise that that's not true here. It's not true of you. Nikki, thanks for coming with me. Thanks." He shrugged in response to her quizzical gaze. "Just thanks."

They had almost reached the grey haired estate agent.

"Harry Cunningham, pleased to meet you," Harry said holding out his hand to the woman.

"Martha Thomas," the lady replied. She looked towards Nikki.

"Nikki Alexander," she said offering her hand distractedly. She was still wondering how Candy could have had such an influence over him. Martha smiled at her and began the search for the keys.

"Oh you kept your own names then?" she muttered.

Harry hadn't the heart to correct her; she was having too much trouble looking for the keys and he wasn't sure that Nikki had heard; she was staring at the house. He didn't want to make Martha's day any worse, SAT NAV must be this woman's best friend, he doubted she'd have even turned up at the right address otherwise. It was quite nice for a change; this woman looked like a retired school teacher but without the organisational skills. All the others could have been carbon copies of each other, the same overly made up faces and slightly too tight skirts, even the same way of speaking.

"Harry look!" Nikki hissed.

"What?" he wondered why they were whispering, but there was something about the older lady's appearance that just made it the thing to do.

"Look!" she insisted pointing to the front steps.

"What?" Harry hissed back.

"Look at those," Nikki climbed back down the steps and pointed at the two stone lions on each side, guarding the steps. She raised an eyebrow at him.

"Don't start telling me that's a 'sign!' I'll not let you come with me on any more of these viewings if you're going to go all crazy on me."

"I don't think I'll need to," Nikki replied and stared up at the house with a smile.

Harry looked around at the location; the house was on a main road, not the place you might choose for your dream family house but perfect if you wanted an easily accessible office. He didn't notice a big imposing bell filled church either. It might be further down the street, but it wasn't next door.

"I have the key here somewhere," Martha said rooting about in her enormous bag. In the end she resorted to trying all the keys she had. She struck lucky on the third set.

"This would make a lovely family home," she said and gave the two of them a smile. "You'll have plenty of room to grow into the place. I'm not going to lie to you the kitchen does need updating, but then you can put your own stamp on it, can't you. Choose what you both want."

"Actually I'm more interested in the annexe, I'm looking for a place to work and this is my business partner," Harry said it was only going to get more awkward if he didn't correct her. He wasn't sure Nikki was up for hearing Martha suggest nursery colour designs. But watching Nikki walk through the house an almost skip to her step maybe she wouldn't mind. She was staring out at the garden through the back window, he wasn't sure if she could hear them.

"Oh, are you sure?" Martha asked.

"Why?"

"Oh, I don't know the two of you seem right together and look at her, she's pretty as a picture. You'd have yourself some beautiful looking children," Martha said to Harry.

Nikki turned back from the window. "The garden needs a bit of work," she said.

"Oh yes, but the helianthus are going to be beautiful in a month or so." Martha exclaimed. "Shall we go and look at the annexe?"

The space was perfect, two small rooms, a waiting area and cloakroom. It was much less intimidating than a shop and already had all the plumbing and electricity requirements that the dentist needed originally, if he ever wanted to develop it as lab space.

"It's been on the market for a while now, problems with the main road I think and of course now it's empty; the vendors may be willing to take an offer. It's always worth asking."

"I don't want to buy something and then be miserable because I can't afford to redecorate or eat," Harry said.

"But if it is the right house," Nikki interrupted. "If Harry wants this house, we'll have to pool our assets and buy it together.

Martha gave them a puzzled look, there was certainly more to this peculiar couple than she had first thought. She walked back through the kitchen and into the hallway. Martha looked at the stairs and then back to Harry. "I'll leave you two to look around upstairs, take your time. I'll wait in the kitchen for you."

* * *

**Small apologies to estate agents out there, but I have met some like this and many worse…**


	47. Chapter 47 Wasted Time

**Chapter Forty-Seven**

**Tuesday 30****th**** July**

**Wasted Time **

"I can't afford it," Harry said on the way back. "And I'm not living with that kitchen, because I can't afford a new one."

"But we could together, if you used my half of Leo's money." Nikki insisted.

"I'm not sure we could. Even if we use all the money from the sale of Leo's and my flat, I'd still have an enormous mortgage. I'm going to need a decent cash flow to get the business up and running, and I'd have to get the kitchen and bathroom redone. It's just not practical. I'd be £300,000 short at least. It's too much of a gamble. There's stamp duty and all the fees too, it all adds up."

Nikki stared out of the window of the car all the way back to Leo's.

"There'll be something else, I'll just keep looking." Harry said to break the silence.

"But I know you liked it."

"I loved it Nikki, but it doesn't mean I can have it."

"No, sometimes you have to wait," she'd said cryptically.

"Do you want me to drop you at yours or Leo's?"

"My car's at Leo's and I've got laundry to collect. Leo's is fine."

They started work on the books after making a quick pasta meal. Harry could see her reflected in the glass of the book case he was emptying. Her buoyant mood of earlier had vanished, her movements had taken on a tired and defeated look again.

"I'm sorry about the house Nikki."

"That's ok. It just had so much potential. The estate agent said they might be willing to take an offer."

"Not at £350,000 under the asking price!"

"It had a good feeling. I liked it." She'd not turned round but spoken in to her book shelf. "You're right to be careful though. It just seems that everything is always just out of our reach." She said reaching up to the top shelf for yet another book.

"Everything?" he questioned turning to look at her.

"Everything that makes me happy," she replied but didn't turn round. "Don't you find it quiet in here? You never have the radio on." She said after another long pause.

"Did you see Leo's CD collection?"

She turned then and rifled through the box that Harry indicated, found one and stuck it in the machine. It was one of the few things left in the room that hadn't been packed up, apart from the books. Harry recognised the album from the first introduction, 'Hotel California' by The Eagles. He wondered how long it would take before she turned it off.

'_You're afraid it's all been wasted time,'_

About four tracks then, he smiled and went back to his silence.

That was another night she'd stayed over. She claimed that she slept better in the spare room at Leo's and Harry was glad of the company. Jorge had uploaded a clip of one of his shows and the two of them watched it together, their heads nearly touching as they stared at Harry's laptop screen.

"He's even better than he was in New York," Nikki said.

"Some things improve with time then?" Harry asked.

"Not everything," she answered running her hand through the hair at his temple and above his ears. "You are aware you're going grey?"

"Distinguished, is the word you're looking for I believe, and I'm not," he tilted his head around for her at this point, "Going bald!"

She giggled and took hold of the hand he had used to point to the crown of his head. It had been a long time since they had sat side by side holding hands.

"How's your sunflower doing?" Harry asked.

"It's the only thing that keeps me going home. It's about 6 inches tall now. For some reason the downstairs toilet doesn't seem to be working properly, I haven't used the dishwasher for ages but I seem to recall that making odd noises the last time I used it.

"First the washing machine, then the downstairs toilet and the dishwasher, the whole house is falling apart. Or is there a problem with the water supply? Do you own the pipes outside or does the council?"

"I think the council does, it could be the water pressure I suppose."

Maybe you just need a new house?" Harry said carelessly and then realised exactly what he had said.

"I'm considering it," she replied.

Harry quickly recalculated his sums of earlier. His flat and Leo's house and they'd easily be short but if Nikki sold her house too…

"Night Harry, I'll see you in the morning." She said breaking his reverie and giving his hand a squeeze.

"Night, Nikki; sleep well."

She paused in the doorway and without turning back said quietly,

"Harry, that letter you wrote me. You did mean it didn't you?"

She'd spoken so softly it was almost as if he'd imagined it, she still had her face turned away.

"Every word," he replied honestly. When he looked up again, she was gone, but he was sure she'd heard his answer. It was the first time she'd even acknowledged that first page. He shut down the computer and switched if off at the plug socket, he collected a glass of water and then followed her upstairs but it was a long time before he fell asleep.

* * *

**Wasted Time: The Eagles**


	48. Chapter 48 Champagne?

**Chapter Forty-Eight **

**Sunday 4****th**** August**

**Champagne?**

Nikki had been called out early Sunday morning, they were predicting storms and flash floods after a stretch of unusually hot weather so there was no time to lose. She and Jack had worked tirelessly to collect as much evidence from the scene as they could before it was all washed away. She'd ended up soaked and the last thing she wanted was to go out for lunch with Harry. What she needed was a hot shower and some warm clothes. The shower pressure at her house had been really poor recently, so in frustration she threw some clothes, towels and her shower kit in her bag and drove over to Leo's.

"You alright?" Harry had asked as she'd marched through the door just after one.

"My shower's nearly given up the ghost now. I don't understand it. I just want to be clean and warm and dry."

"It's your house as much as mine," Harry said as she scuttled upstairs with her stuff. He called the council for her anyway, it was probably worth reporting.

#

"I thought you liked to take Sunday afternoon's off?" Nikki said as she entered the study with two cups of tea. They'd skipped their usual pub lunch it was so late and foraged from the fridge instead.

"But we're so close to finishing, I thought I'd have a go."

It had taken hours, days, to clear the books from the shelves. Each one had been checked and then assigned a new home. Harry had made frequent trips to the dump, the Salvation Army and a number of local charity shops. Added to their box system, which was now on some of the empty shelves and not in the middle of the floor, was an ebay box and when there were enough things in there, Nikki had promised to sell them.

Harry pulled the last book from the last remaining bookshelf, flicked through its pages noting the yellow edges and tossed it towards the bin box.

"Do you want me to get the champagne, rather than the tea?" Nikki asked.

Harry smiled. "I'm not sure it quite calls for champagne." He leant on the newly emptied bookshelf, causing it to shift slightly.

"Harry?"

"Mmm?"

"Harry!" Nikki repeated slightly louder, "What's that?"

Harry walked round to the side of the bookcase to where Nikki was standing, where the small movement had left a shadow. He gave the shelf another shove and the shadow got larger. This time he gave the unit a tug and the shadow got lighter, illuminating an alcove which the bookshelf had obscured. The alcove wasn't empty, it was stuffed full of books, cases and a whole lot more besides.

"We definitely need to hold off on the champagne." Harry groaned.

Nikki helped Harry shuffle the empty bookcase out of the way so that they could take a better look at Leo's secret storage place.

"I guess we found where Leo hid the skeletons in his closet," Harry smirked.

"Behind the bookcase?"

"There's plenty of good things hidden behind bookcases," Harry declared.

"True," Nikki agreed.

"How long do you suppose this stuff has been here?" Harry asked.

"You don't think he covered all this stuff up when Theresa died do you?" Nikki asked with a shiver.

Harry picked something up off the shelf and shook his head.

"I think this might be before Theresa's time, it might even be before Leo's time, this record is dated 1967."

"Do you think it's valuable?"

"I have no idea."

Harry pulled down a couple of boxes that could have held files but contained more records. "Some of these don't look as if they've ever been played!"

"Maybe collecting old records was Leo's secret hobby? Maybe they are really rare and we can sell each one for a £1000."

"I think you might be daydreaming Nikki," Harry said morosely. "It doesn't look like a gold mine to me; it looks like another week's worth of trips to the dump. From what I've seen Leo's taste in music has been awful, why would the earlier stuff be any better?"

Nikki flicked through the covers.

"Like you said, maybe they're not his. Maybe this bookshelf was in place before Leo even moved in?"

"Could be," Harry replied still staring at the newly found items.

"Seems like he's got every Sex Pistols record that ever was," Nikki said.

"The Sex Pistols? Does that sound like Leo?" And then after a moment added, "How would you even know how many Sex Pistols records there are, wasn't it a bit before your time?" Nikki gave Harry a smug look, and Harry decided that he didn't want to know how she knew what she did. It was no doubt a bit like her phenomenal knowledge of gambling.

Nikki held up the cover. "I bet these are valuable, do you want me to look it up?"

"Not now," Harry replied, flicking through another stack of vinyl record sleeves.

"What do you suppose this is?" Nikki asked picking up another suitcase shaped object with a handle." She pressed the catch lever to the side and opened the lid.

"Harry look!" she gasped. "It's like a museum piece!"

"That is a museum piece! Do you suppose it still works?"

Harry pulled an empty box from the pile, carefully taped the bottom and turned it over as a makeshift table. He lifted the old machine onto the box and checked the flex; it had at least been rewired to a 3 pin plug.

"It's an Alba 632," he said reading the label on the front.

"Do you think it's rare? Do you think it'll still work?"

"We won't know until we try."

"The turntables a funny colour," Nikki said, peering more closely at the machine.

"That's because there's still a record left on it."

"I wonder what it is?"

"It should have had a label but I guess that's disintegrated," Harry explained. It had been quiet for nearly a month. Harry couldn't bear any of Leo's recent CD's or the radio, so he'd worked in silence. Even Nikki had given up on the only CD she'd tried.

He was only too aware of how apt so many of the songs he'd heard in America had been for his life. Jorge's lift music had been the prime example. Elvis was always coming to damning conclusions about his life. If he'd listened to Elvis he would have got rid of Leyla weeks earlier. Elvis had told him from the beginning that 'She's Not You,' and had he listened to him he'd have saved himself a lot of heartache. And then of course there was the music during their weekend together. Maybe this record would complete the cycle, maybe of all the songs that had haunted him over the year, this would be the last one, and it would finally stop.

He plugged the player in, and heard the static hum of the speakers; he checked the rotation speed and clicked the switch that made the table spin. The arm and needle would need to be lifted on to the vinyl by hand.

"Harry?"

"Hmm?"

"I think it might be the time for that dance you owe me,"

Harry looked up, really looked at her. Her face was almost back to how it had been before, before he'd left and before Leo had gone. There were still more lines than there had been, age was creeping up but she was no less beautiful for them. What had gone was the haggard look and the wildness about the eyes giving her the look of a frightened animal.

"You sure?"

She nodded. "You?"

"I've been ready for a while now."

"Shall we?" he asked offering her his hand.

* * *

**So what's the song? You must have some clues or at least good suggestions. I love to hear what you think.**


	49. Chapter 49 Under My Skin

**Sorry in my defence I've not felt that well this weekend AND you begged me to drag it out. Not sure this is what you were wanting…but this is what you got…**

**Thanks for all the song suggestions, I've sneaked a few in, thanks as ever for reading and reviewing.**

* * *

**Chapter Forty-Nine**

**Sunday 4****th**** August**

'**I'd tried so not to give in.  
I said to myself: this affair never will go so well.  
But why should I try to resist when, baby, I know down well  
I've got you under my skin?'**

She gave him a nervous smile.

"You don't want to find out what the song is first?" he asked.

"What do you think it could be? Tequila?" she suggested cheekily.

Harry gave a snort of laughter. "This is Leo's record collection we're talking about. Maybe he had some classics. What about 'Ain't nothing like the real thing?" that would be about the right era for this machine.

"Hmm it's a good idea…" Nikki looked at the record player and pulled a face.

"How about, 'My man done left me to go teaching in New York and the sorry arse not even turn up at his friend's funeral,'" she suggested with a pout.

"Ah, yes the well known Blues Classic," he raised an eyebrow questioning her, asking her silently if she had forgiven him. He was pretty sure that if she was making a joke about it, he was finally on safe ground. "Or was it a Country and Western number?" He saw her smile.

"Sorry?" he said.

"Tracey Chapman is far too modern for this piece of pre-history," she answered dismissively and he could tell that the worst was past and that she was on the way to forgiving him if she hadn't already.

There was something momentous about the atmosphere in the room, as if everything in the last decade had been moving them towards this very point, just with glacial slowness. Maybe it had only been a month since he had arrived back, but it wasn't as if they'd just met, they had history. A lot of history and if things went well this evening there was every possibility they would have a future too.

"Stand by me?" Nikki asked.

Harry nodded, took a step towards her and then suddenly lost his nerve.

"But what if it's the classic song: 'I'd like to teach the world to sing?'" He blustered, cursing himself as he said it for ruining the moment with a stupid joke.

"You know how to sing, you just left your partners." Nikki said plunging them back into seriousness.

Nikki noticed his agonised face, she knew how hard this was for him, how adrift he felt and exposed without the safety net of propriety between them, just fear of the consequences of the open sea. Their safety net had been punctured and almost shredded over the years but as useless as it was, it was still a source of comfort.

"Do you think this machine could have been hidden here since the 70's? she asked, steering them both back to safer waters. Harry shrugged.

"Wasn't 'I'd like to teach the world to sing the first Coca Cola advert in the 70's," she added.

"My point exactly," exclaimed Harry. "Leo loved advert music maybe he started as he meant to carry on."

"These might not be Leo's records," Nikki pointed out.

"Can you really see Leo not knowing that all this stuff was back here? He always had to know everything about everything, you don't think he'd have moved the bookcase when he moved in?"

Nikki threw her hands in the air and looked back at the record player.

"Somewhere beyond the sea?" she suggested more realistically.

"It could even be by Elvis," Harry said.

"You could sing along," Nikki offered and saw yet more hurt in his eyes.

"Stormy weather?" Harry proposed, trying to assess her reaction, but she still wasn't giving much away. He was beginning to suspect her choices of song titles were not so much guesses now, as to suggestions.

"Taking a Chance on Love?"

"I've got you under my skin?"

"Impossible dream?" Nikki half whispered.

It's not impossible when it's possible thought Harry.

"In the Mood, Glen Miller," Harry suggested, one eyebrow raised. Hadn't he said in his letter he was tired of waiting? It was time for action.

"Will you still love me tomorrow?" Nikki countered.

"When I'm 64?" Harry asked but with a nod in answer to her question.

"Always and Forever…" she asked.

"Shall we?" said Harry kicking the last remaining boxes to the side to make some space on the floor and offering her his hand. He picked up the needle and placed it down gently on the edge of the spinning record. There was a scratchy hissing noise as the needle travelled through the empty grooves punctuated by little clicks before a big orchestral introduction began.

Harry smiled.

"You know what this is?"

He nodded. "I take it back, Leo did have some taste."

"You're sure they're his" Nikki asked.

"Oh yes," Harry began but then the beautiful breathy voice joined the instruments in a plaintive cry that seemed to come from the very depths of the singer's soul, breaking off his words.

'_At last, my love has come along,_

Harry pulled her closer and felt his eyes close and a huge weight lift from his shoulders.

_My lonely days are over, and life is like a song._

_At last, the skies above are blue,_

He felt Nikki's cheek against his, he felt a stillness deep within him, no churning stomach for him today, just a steadiness and a throbbing in his heart giving life to the connection between them.

_My heart was wrapped up in clover,_

_The night I looked at you.'_

Harry held her hand, his right arm in the small of her back as they swayed gently to the music. With his eyes closed, he breathed deeply and filled his being with the smell and feel of Nikki pressed the full length of his body, not pulling away from him and his ears full of the sound of Etta James' soulful voice.

'_And here I am in heaven, for you are mine at last.'_

'Thank you Leo,' he said silently to his friend. It would be nice to think Leo had planned it all, left the record for them to find, left them his house to make sure they worked together at such a difficult time. Left him the idea for his new job, a way of doing what he loved most but without having to spend every minute of every day with Nikki. Leo knew they would need their space. There was a great deal that Harry had never understood about his friend, mentor and old boss but there was no reason to believe that he hadn't planned it all. Just because Harry didn't understand it; it didn't mean Leo hadn't done it on purpose. It didn't make it a fantasy.

He moved his cheek from beside hers to look at her. She opened her eyes and looked up at him, he tried to read her face; desperate to read happiness there, contentment, desire but for once he couldn't decipher her. Their lips were inches apart but he wanted her to be the one to close the gap. He'd travelled 3000 miles to come back to her; it was up to her to close up the last 3 inches. They stood frozen together, neither moving as the violins finished their crescendo and the music stopped. Instead of the record player's arm automatically returning to the start it stayed down on the disc, setting up a rhythmic pulse of scratch and pop, tearing through the place where the label had once been.

Harry jumped out of her embrace to lift the needle before it damaged the vinyl or broke the stylus. He stared at the machine, his mind and body in turmoil.

* * *

**Tequila: The Champs 1958**

**Ain't nothing but the real thing: Marvin Gaye 1968**

**Sorry: Tracy Chapman 1988**

**Stand By Me: Ben E King 1961**

**I'd Like to Teach the World To Sing: New Seekers 1971**

**Somewhere Beyond The Sea: Bobby Darin 1946**

**Stormy Weather: Lena Horne 1943 (Ella Fitzgerald 1945)**

**Taking A Chance On Love: Dorothy Dandridge 1953**

**I've Got You Under My Skin: Frank Sinatra 1963**

**Impossible Dream: Andy Williams 1971**

**In The Mood: Glen Miller Band 1946**

**Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow? The Shirelles 1961**

**When I'm Sixty-Four: The Beatles 1967**

**Always and Forever: Heatwave 1976**

**At Last: Etta James 1960**

**Been wanting to do a conversation like this, from the start…hope it worked. Sorry for the history lesson. If you don't know the song, you must listen to the Etta James: At Last, but the whole list is pretty good...**


	50. Chapter 50 At Last

**Chapter Fifty **

**Sunday 4****th**** August**

**At Last**

Harry stared disconsolately at the record player. Only moments ago he'd been thanking his friend for leaving it for them to find, and now it just seemed yet another obstacle. Something else that instead of bringing them together had pulled them apart.

"Play it again," he heard in a breathy voice by his ear. He'd not heard her move, but she was stood right next to him, her hand reaching up to touch his shoulder.

"We always did need more time than anyone else," she said hesitantly. Harry swallowed. He looked into her eyes again and this time he saw what he needed to see.

"That song is particularly short. A second chance?" he asked.

"I think we went past second chances a long time ago," she replied.

"A second dance then?"

"My pleasure," Nikki replied offering him her hand.

Harry placed the needle down on the record and turned to pull her against him. He'd had enough of waiting and he'd seen enough in her eyes to be sure that she wanted him every bit as much as he wanted her. He gave her the tiniest of kisses and pulled away.

"You want more?" he asked in response to her confused expression.

She smiled and nodded and Harry kissed her harder the second time.

Nikki hooked her hands around his neck and pulled him towards her. This time neither of them pulled away.

"We're not impossible, are we?" Nikki asked as the music died away a second time. This time the arm cooperated and returned automatically to its rest.

"No we are not impossible," Harry agreed reaching up and stroking her face.

"Do you think we'll finally be able to reach?"

"Reach a place where we'll both be happy?" he asked following her train of thought precisely.

"I have to believe that," he said and brushed his thumb across her cheek.

"I want it all too," she said boldly looking him in the eye. "I want you."

"Forever?" Harry asked, not willing to accept anything less.

She nodded, her eyes now fixating on his lips. She'd not forgotten the feel of Harry's lips on hers after their weekend in New York. And kissing him during the song had reawakened the reality of that memory. In all the lonely months of ignoring him and hating him, she'd never been able to bury that feeling; the taste of his lips, the tantalising flavour of his love and desire for her. She knew she'd had plenty of bedfellows over the years but none of them had ever kissed her with the same passion that Harry Cunningham had.

He stroked her lip with his thumb. "I have really missed you," he said.

"I've been here," she replied.

"Not like this, not in my arms, not together, not like this."

"This?"

"Yes THIS!" he said, kissing her forehead, her cheeks, her lips, her neck.

"I like THIS!" she announced ruffling his hair.

"Nikki?" he murmured.

"Don't stop," she pleaded.

He nuzzled his face into her neck, she could feel the brisk stubble on his chin and the soft nips of his lips and her limbs become heavy as her core began to ache for his touch. Back in New York they had both been fast and frenzied but it was clear now they had no need to rush. It was no less passionate; more so in fact but today there was no hurry. They had time. They had the rest of their lives. They were together; at last.

"What do you suppose is on the other side of that record?" Harry asked as they paused to catch their breath.

"You're not ready to finish dancing yet?"

Harry shook his head; "I was just getting into the groove." He walked over to the old record player and immediately she missed the warmth of his embrace. She watched him flip the disc over. "The label's still on the other side," he said with a grin.

"You recognise the song?" Nikki asked.

"No, but I like the words," he smiled and moved the needle across to the vinyl. This time instead of an orchestral opening there was a brassy jazz style opening.

"You know that house Nikki…" He held his breath, he didn't want to push her too far too soon, but there was no denying it, they had both agreed they were in love with each other months back and feeling her dancing in his arms, her body close to his only confirmed the fact that he didn't want anyone else ever again. He wanted her, just her and her forever.

"The one on St Cecilia Road?" she hardly needed to ask, there was only one house.

"Do you think we can afford it? Together I mean."

_I don't want you to be no slave;_

_I don't want you to work all day;_

"We'll find a way. It's not impossible when it's possible." She grinned at him.

"No it's not," he agreed and pulled her close to him, swaying gently.

_But I want you to be true,_

"Are you asking me to move in with you?" Nikki said.

"I thought you already had," he said audaciously.

She blew out her cheeks and stared at him. "Not here," he laughed, let go of her hand and gestured around the room. He tapped his chest. "You moved in here years ago; I wouldn't want it any other way." You stole my desk and my heart, he thought to himself.

_And I just wanna make love to you._

_...Love to you..._

* * *

**At Last: Etta James,**

**Flip side of the original 7" single 'I just want to make love to you,' Etta James**


	51. Chapter 51 A Little Less Conversation

**So somehow I managed to erase/save over this section, spent ages trying to get it back. Gave up and rewrote it. Not sure I'm happy with the new one, but can't compare it to the old one now. I always have fluff angst, so I'm off to hide, tell me when it's safe to come out.**

* * *

**Chapter Fifty-One**

**Sunday 4****th**** August.**

**A little less conversation**

"Nikki," Harry murmured into her skin, his stillness of earlier had been replaced by a growing sense of urgency.

"Do you think Leo knew?" Nikki asked.

"I wouldn't put it past him," Harry said, his enthusiasm for conversation waning. He still had his arms wrapped tight around her, but now he was gently tugging her with him towards the door.

"Do you think he minds?"

"Mind's what?" Harry asked gasping for breath.

"This. Us?" Nikki raised her eyes to the stairs and up towards his old bedroom. "In his house?"

"If he had planned it, wherever he is, he is probably whooping for joy and doing cartwheels." Harry laughed.

"Now there's an image. Do you think he can see us?"

"Nikki!" Harry chided. "What are you hoping for; marks out of ten?"

"Harry!" she laughed in return.

"Now Elvis has a lot to say about this," Harry said seriously, kicking off his socks and shoes as he did so.

"What does Elvis have to say about THIS?" she copied his action, kicking her shoes towards an empty bookshelf.

Harry grabbed her upper arms and pinned her against the wall. "A little less conversation, a little more action!" he growled, his lips bearing down on hers and his fingers working on the buttons of her blouse.

"Are you sure that was Elvis, and not Beto on Skype the other day?"

"You noticed?"

"It was hard not to," she laughed. Her laugh had always done unmentionable things to his insides but tonight took it to a whole new level.

"You have such a sexy laugh," he said, causing her to laugh all over again.

Nikki took the chance as he was undoing her buttons to step backwards up a couple of the stairs.

"What action was Elvis thinking of?" she asked innocently.

"I'm sure he meant this," Harry muttered, kissing the skin of her breast along the edge of her satin bra.

She seized the opportunity to attack his belt, and quickly stepped backwards up another couple of steps. She saw Harry raise his eyes to the top; he was obviously reassessing his need to reach the bedroom. He pulled his shirt over his head.

"Are you happy?" she asked.

He looked up at her; there were so many different ways of answering her question. Yes he was happy but not just because he was, after a long hiatus going to get some decent sex, there was so much more at stake here. His relief was palpable, like trying to remember a word that had been on the tip of his tongue for so long, until finally it emerged from his triumphant subconscious. Making love to Nikki was the fulfilment of something that had been there for years, right on the tip of his tongue but until now it had been inaccessible.

He climbed up to the stair beneath the one she was stood on, and kissed her cheek.

"You have made me, the happiest man on the planet." He said seriously.

"Already?" she asked flirtily and pushed down her skirt.

"Already," he smiled adding another kiss. "You?"

"Ditto," she sighed with a gasp as Harry ran his hand across her breast and down past her bare waist.

"Doesn't count. You can't be the happiest man on the planet. You're not a man." He insisted.

"No, I'm not," she agreed. Her eyes meeting his gaze.

"I'm definitely a woman."

"Yes you are," agreed Harryand unhooked her bra to emphasize his point and mentally pictured a few more things he hoped to find on the tip of his tongue.

Harry pointed to the top of the stairs.

"Ladies first."

"Is that a promise?" she retorted taking another step towards the top.

"Do you want it to be?" he asked; his voice low and breathy, following her step for step.

Her fingers played across his shoulders and onto his chest. He caught one in his mouth and he heard her gasp in response.

Somehow they managed the last few stairs and tumbled onto the bed. Harry pushed back her hair from her forehead.

"You are so beautiful," he whispered.

The last time they had both been on the same bed, they had been on opposite sides with their feet firmly on the ground. This time they were intertwined, the final distance between them conquered.

"You are different," she said. "I like it," she added. Harry growled what Nikki hoped was an affirmative response.

"You've got more…more…" she struggled to find the right word, the movement of Harry's fingers doing nothing to help her concentrate, or not on vocabulary.

"Chutzpah?" Harry suggested with a grin ostentatiously licking his fingers.

"Balls," Nikki replied with a bigger grin and a demonstration that caused Harry to throw back his head and suck in his breath as if a jolt of electricity had passed through him.

His kisses travelled down her body, following the path his fingers traced across her skin. After that he took Elvis' advice and concentrated on the action, and not the conversation. But he was sure amongst the sighs and the caresses he heard Nikki mutter,

"At last,"

She was perfect. They were perfect. They were possible.

He'd always known there was no going back; maybe that was why he had waited so long. Never taken the chances he'd had to make love to her before. He'd had his chances, plenty of them. But lying in her arms gloriously exhausted he knew that he didn't want to go back. Ever. They would go forward, and they would do it together.

* * *

**A Little Less Conversation: Davis and Strange (Elvis)**


	52. Chapter 52 I Got It Bad

**Thanks again to the ever wonderful KiwiSWfan, Greylostwho, and Freya82. I'd have probably given up without them. So thanks for your faithful reviews.**

* * *

**Chapter Fifty-Two**

**Monday 29****th**** July**

**I Got It Bad**

"Nikki?" Harry mumbled, his body heavy with sleep.

"Shh! Go back to sleep, I'm just going to the bathroom…"

Harry felt the duvet flap, and the noise of her feet padding across the floor. He tried to open his eyes but he couldn't escape the weight of exhaustion and satisfaction, pulling him into the mattress. Not until he heard the front door click.

Then he was wide awake.

"What have I done?" he called as he jumped out of Leo's bed and tore down the stairs, passed his clothes, but noting that she must have collected hers. There was no sign of her as he opened the front door. It wasn't as if he could run naked onto the street after her. It felt like the middle of the night but on checking the time it was 5:45. Maybe she was just heading home to take a shower before work.

But her shower wasn't working.

Maybe she wanted clean clothes.

She had spares from when she'd stayed over before, and all the items she'd washed in Leo's machine.

He went in search of his phone and some clothes, his body shivering violently despite the mild July temperature. He stared at his phone wondering whether to text or call. What would he say?

"Nikki!" he shouted in frustration, kicking a kitchen chair as he did so with his still bare foot.

The phone went straight to voicemail, so he sent her a text.

"I'm wide awake now! Breakfast?"

Why had she run? It wasn't as if pillow talk was going to be difficult. It wasn't the first time they'd have woken up in the same bed. He thought back to their time together in New York, how uncomplicated it had all seemed then.

He had to talk to her.

He walked in circles around Leo's table. He'd boiled the kettle but got no further. He'd pulled the muesli out of the cupboard but not opened it.

He phoned the office as soon as he thought she'd be there but she didn't pick up, it was Clarissa.

"Hi Clarissa, it's Harry Cunningham, is Nikki in yet?" he said.

"No, I'm sorry she's not." Clarissa replied. "Can I help you?"

"No." Harry stuttered and put the phone down.

This time he got as far as placing a tea bag in his cup but his frantic pacing was halted by a text message. He didn't recognise the number.

"_Nikki says 'Out at a scene, phone out of battery, call u later.' Jack."_

Harry stumbled back up the stairs and into the bathroom, surprised he wasn't actually sick. His stomach churned more wildly than it had in a long time. He splashed water onto his face and saw the note she had left him propped up on the bathroom mirror. He picked it up and kissed the scrap of paper.

Why hadn't he even considered the possibility that she'd been called out to a scene?

He had it bad.

It was also no real surprise that her phone was out of battery. It's not as if either of them remembered to plug them in before going to bed. It hadn't seemed like a priority at the time.

He tried phoning the office again after half an hour. He spoke to Clarissa again.

"No, she's still not in yet. Can I help you?"

"Maybe you can," he'd said. Now his brain had recovered from the shock of Nikki running out on him, he'd gone back to thinking about the stash or records they had found the previous night.

"You know how you know everything about everything…"

"I've never even met you," Clarissa laughed, "I'm not sure I know everything about everything."

"Yes, but you seem to know how to find out stuff."

"Yes, I do," she admitted.

"If I were to email you a list of old records do you think you could find out if they were valuable or not?"

"What do you mean, old records?"

"Vinyl, seven inch, 12 inch, albums… Those kind of records."

There was a pause.

"I might know someone," she replied.

"Really?" Harry asked. "Is there anything you can't do?"

Clarissa gave a half choked scoffing noise, "You'll find out." She muttered.

"Have you got time, do you mind?" Harry asked.

"Send me the list and I'll see what I can do," she said. "Oh Harry, you still there?"

"Yes, why?"

"Nikki just walked in; do you want to talk to her?"

"How does she look?" Harry asked cryptically.

"Are you asking me if she looks like she's enjoyed a long overdue night of passion with an old colleague?"

Harry blushed scarlet and made strangled noises down the phone but no real words.

"She looks fine, Harry."

"Fine?" Harry asked. He loathed that word.

"More than fine, she looks happy, relieved, better than I've seen her for a long time."

"You're not just making that up to make me feel better?" Harry asked, his insecurities rising again. He wasn't even sure how Clarissa had guessed what was actually worrying him. Maybe she really was that good.

"No wonder it took you this long." Clarissa muttered and then said loudly and pointedly to Nikki. "I've got a Harry Cunningham on the phone for you? Are you here?" She held the phone towards Nikki and wheeled away.

"You alright?" Harry said sheepishly, "You left early."

"Yes, Harry. I'm alright. I was just coming back to bed when I heard the phone go. I tried to leave you a note."

"I know, I found it."

"But not straight way."

"No…" He said, knowing she would read into his answer all that he had thought and felt that morning. "Thanks for getting Jack to send that message."

"You were worried."

Harry snorted into the phone, "Me? No…" again he knew she would pick up on his lie.

"Can I come over later?"

"You don't have to ask, it's your house too."

"That's not what I mean."

"I know."

"Can I?"

"Yes please," Harry said.

* * *

**I Got It Bad (And That Ain't Good) Nina Simone (Duke Ellington and Paul Francis Webster)**


	53. Chapter 53 On One Condition

**Chapter Fifty-Three**

**Monday 29th July**

**On One Condition**

His doorbell went at 5:30, he had a sinking feeling it would be a sales call, or Jehovah's Witnesses it was too early to be Nikki, but there she was stood on his doorstep with a plant pot sporting a gangly sunflower plant tied to a plastic ruler.

"My house is full of shit!" she exclaimed and barged past him into Leo's almost empty house.

"Nikki?"

She didn't answer just stomped to the kitchen, placed her sunflower on the window ledge and picked up Harry's ipad that was on the table.

"How do you know my password?" he began.

But instead of answering she shoved the headlines from News 24 at him. He looked at the stories trying to make sense of the different headlines, wondering which one had put her in such a temper. She jabbed her finger at one, opening the next page. It was a water main leak in central London.

"I'm not following," Harry admitted, scanning the article. It didn't seem that close to her house. The traffic in the area was a nightmare, streets closed but none of that would be enough to cause her such a violent reaction.

"The water main, it burst a couple of streets away."

"But what's that got to do with you?"

"Because everything backed up in the pipes in my street and a secondary leak burst the sewage line and and…" her voice reached a crescendo at this point, but Harry had enough pieces of the puzzle now.

"You're house is genuinely full of shit, isn't it!"

"I think so," she sniffed. "I wasn't even allowed in. The whole street has been evacuated. A fireman in a HAZMAT suit asked if there was anything I needed urgently and it had to be something he could carry out in one trip. I couldn't think Harry, I asked for the plant."

"Nikki," he soothed rubbing his hand over her back and happy to notice she let it rest there. Touched that of all her belongings the thing that came to her mind first was the plant he had given her.

"That's why I've been having so much trouble with the water at the house. There's been a blockage in the pipes for a while and today was the day the system collapsed."

"So you've not seen how bad it is inside?" Harry asked thinking through all the problems, glad he'd called the council for her the previous week.

"It's not going to be good is it? If the sewage system has overflowed, I'll need new carpets, new furniture…" her eyes started to tear up.

"Have the council known about the problems?" Harry asked.

"According to the news, complaints about the water pressure had been made by a number of residents."

"So, you'll be covered by insurance. You can get new stuff. It'll be ok."

"I can't go back to living there, I can't. I can't." she cried.

"I'm sure it'll be fine Nikki."

"But it will smell. And I'll always know."

"You won't know how bad it is until you go back and see."

"But why have they evacuated the whole street then?"

"Maybe they're worried that the problems with the pipes or the water could damage the foundations or something. Maybe they're just doing structural checks. Did anyone actually tell you that your house was swimming in sewage?"

He saw her blink rapidly and look up at him. "No…but… The firemen were all dressed up in their hazard suits."

"That could just be procedure."

"But even if it's not sewage and it's structural damage, I'll not be able to go back there for a while, will I? I'll be homeless like you were when your house blew up."

"Then if you don't want to go back, or if they say it is structurally unsafe, you'll have to get a new house won't you?" Harry said pointedly.

They stood facing each other across the kitchen table, there wasn't much furniture left but the table was still there and the overloud clock.

Neither knew what to say next. The clock thundered in the silence.

Her face was still creased by frustration and anger but as he stood and watched her he could see the lines begin to soften. He hoped she was remembering the previous night. He certainly was; he couldn't just look at her now as he always had, just the surface that she allowed him to see. He'd seen it all now. And when she'd had to run, she'd run to him with her sunflower in tow. He might have it bad, but perhaps she did too.

"I'm really sorry Nikki," Harry said out loud, but inside a part of him was whooping with delight. She could move in with him, they could be happy, they could have the future he'd always wanted, she could be the family he craved. What was he supposed to say? She was stood in front of him looking slightly lost, particularly pissed off and nervous in equal measure. The clock continued its noisy interruption of the silence

"We won't know for sure until they've found out what the problem actually is." Harry explained calmly. But this only seemed to make Nikki look more ferocious. It wasn't what he wanted to say either. It was about as useful as kicking the table had been this morning, and looking at her face probably just as painful.

He looked over to where her spindly little plant sat on the windowsill, dwarfing the plastic ruler. It had grown a lot in the last three weeks. The seed might have been dormant for years, but the right conditions and now was the time for it to grow and eventually blossom.

He remembered his terror that morning when he thought she'd left. He thought of the letter he'd sent her, telling her he was fed up of being frightened. Fed up of all the wasted time. She'd told him the previous night that she liked his new found determination. That hadn't been exactly what she'd said, or what she'd touched but that was what she had meant. If that's what she liked it was time to step up and be the man.

He counted seven more tocks of the clock before his mouth opened again.

"Marry me?" he asked simply.

She looked shocked at first, then surprised, then stunned, then happy and then she started to cry.

"What? What is it?" he asked; walking around the table and pulling her towards him; wiping away the tears as fast as he could. "What you don't want to? I know I told you I didn't want you as my business partner, I wanted you as my everything partner, my life partner, but we don't have to get married if you think it's restricting or out dated. I don't need a piece of paper to tell me that you have to love me; it's not like that I… I… But you need a new house and I need a new house and Nikki more than anything I want you to live there with me…" He drew breath for a moment and then said finally what he needed to say. What in all that had happened yesterday; had not been said.

"I love you Nikki." He paused to see if he could gauge her reaction. "I can do it properly if you like?" he said dropping down on one knee and holding her hand.

"Nikki Alexander, would you be my wife? Would you be my family? Would you say yes and turn the impossible into the possible?"

"Harry," she said and smiled for the first time since stomping through the front door. "Yes, I would love to marry you."

"Really?" he asked suddenly losing his nerve.

"Really!" she agreed and pulled him to his feet and kissed him. "But on one condition," she clarified.

"Yes?" he asked warily.

"That first thing in the morning we put an offer in on the house," she didn't need to clarify which one. There was only one house.

"Oh," said Harry his face a picture of disappointment. "Then it's all off then," he let her go and stepped backwards. A frown on his face.

"Harry?" Nikki asked, panic rising. She thought she'd got this one right, finally thought she'd played the game properly, surely they could afford it, she'd sell her house, she'd have the insurance money… "but…but…" she stuttered, her tears falling again.

"I can't put an offer in, on that house in the morning," Harry explained. "Because I already had an offer accepted this afternoon."

Nikki gasped, hiccupped, cried and coughed all at the same time and then slapped her hand into his shoulder. "What…how…when…"

He picked her up and twirled her around, much like Jorge had when she'd come to visit him in New York.

"Nikki, you were right. It's the right house, it's the only house and it turns out that Leo's secret stash of vinyl is worth something after all. Clarissa did some research for me; you're right some of them will sell for thousands. We can afford it. We have 48 hours to prove that we will be able to raise a mortgage on the house, but at the moment it's ours."

"So when I thought Clarissa was working away on the test results I wanted, she was really checking the price of Leo's old records?" Nikki asked.

"Maybe. I'm sure she did it in her lunch hour," Harry suggested not wanting to get Clarissa into trouble. "Is there anything that woman can't do?" he asked.

"Walk…" Nikki said.

"Hunh?" But now Harry realised why Nikki had never truly befriended Clarissa. It all made sense, the nasal tone on the phone, the way she hadn't been included on the Middle East field trip. Nikki needed all the heads in any room to turn to her first, it was just how she was, that was never likely to happen when she was out with Clarissa.

"Come on, I think it might be time for that champagne," Nikki said.

"What to celebrate your house swimming in sewage?"

"Don't remind me Harry."

"We're going to be ok aren't we?" Harry asked.

"Well you've had a flat that's blown up, and mine's been flooded the stats look good for us from here on in…"

Harry gave her an ironic smile.

"Do you love me?" she asked him.

"I do," he replied.

"That's good," she said kissing his cheek. "Because, I love you too."

"Come here." Harry said, wrapping his arms around her back and dipping his head to hers.

"What time is it?" Harry asked when they paused for breath.

They both looked at the clock, "Why?"

"Because I have to ring Jorge and Beto and tell them," Harry insisted.

"You don't think you should call your mother first?"

Harry crinkled his nose, "Jorge first, then my mother."

"Can I tell him?" Nikki asked.

"What you think they won't believe me?" Harry asked. Realising as he did so that she had no one to phone, no one to tell. No family of her own. "Of course you can," Harry added. She would have a family now; she would have him and his mother and Jorge and Beto. It might be unconventional but then families were these days. He punched the numbers into his phone and held it out to her.


	54. Chapter 54 Sewage And Sixties Records

**Chapter Fifty-Four**

**Monday 29****th**** July**

**Sewage and Sixties Records**

"Jorge?"

"Hello, who is this?"

"It's Nikki, Jorge. Harry's Nikki from England." She blushed when she said it, but now it was true. She really was Harry's Nikki.

"Nikki, my beautiful English rose?" Jorge asked.

"The very same…"

"Oh! What's he done now? Please tell me he's not done something stupid?" Jorge interrupted.

"I don't think it's stupid." She clarified.

"But he's done something. Hang on I'll call Beto. Whatever it is, he needs to hear this too. I'll put you on speaker."

"He's gone to find Beto," Nikki explained to Harry and put the phone to speaker.

"So what's going on?" Jorge asked a moment later.

"Harry's just asked me to marry him." Nikki said proudly.

There was a loud scream from the other end and the noise of the phone being dropped.

"Did you say yes?" came the sound of Beto's lower voice.

"Of course I said 'Yes,'" Nikki laughed.

"How come we've never heard her laugh before?" Jorge asked. "That laugh Harry, she's beautiful and sexy and with a laugh like that…"

"Steady on you two…" Harry chided.

"Congratulations!" Jorge shouted back.

"Took you long enough," Beto added in the background.

"So you don't have to? You want to." Jorge asked.

"I don't know what you're suggesting!" Harry retorted. "We've got a lot to thank sewage and sixties records for."

"You have problems Harry, you do realise that don't you!" Beto insisted. "Spare us the details please."

"So when's the wedding going to be?" Jorge asked. Hoping he was masking Beto's comments.

"We've not got that far yet! I only asked her five minutes ago."

"And then you called us?" Beto asked.

"We did." Nikki laughed again.

"Are you sure you want to marry him? He's a bit of a sad geek, and we are obviously his only friends. What does that say about him?"

"It says he's lucky to have you, just as I am. And Yes! I said yes," she half shouted half giggled. "Yes I do want to marry him."

"There's no accounting for taste," Beto muttered again. "Ouch!" Without seeing them it was impossible to tell but Harry imagined Jorge digging his elbow in his lover's ribs.

"Don't say you're going for a long engagement. You want to get married, so get married, none of this hanging around." Beto continued. "You know what? Jorge has some concerts booked near Christmas in England. Why don't you have the wedding then and then we can both come!"

"You'd come?" gasped Harry.

"Of course we'd come! And if we're in London anyway…"

"Are you bringing the Show Girls with you?" Harry asked and then made a loud ooph noise as the back of Nikki's hand collided with his stomach.

"Your showgirl days are over my friend; bad luck." insisted Jorge.

"Before Christmas!?" exclaimed Nikki.

"Well it's not as if you're going to change your minds are you? Why not? You've had plenty of time to get to know each other. Hay tiempo como el presente. Aprovecharse la ocasión. No dejes para mañana lo que puedas hacer hoy…" Beto trailed off.

"Enough!" Harry shouted. "Anyway, there's no way we can get married today."

"I told you your Spanish was improving," Beto said smugly.

"But a date before Christmas! That's less than six months away!" Nikki cried.

"And?"

Harry just grinned.

"Harry?" Called Beto. "You're still hopelessly in love with her aren't you?"

"Ermm, Maybe not so hopeless any more, she has just agreed to marry me."

"OK, Culo inteligente."

"Harry, do you love Nikki?"

"I do," Harry smiled.

"Nikki, do you love Harry? Heaven help you."

"I do." Nikki giggled back.

"See, what's so hard? Six months seems too long to me."

"You're not suggesting we fly over to Vegas and get Elvis to do the ceremony in one of those chapels?" Harry asked.

"Now that's a brilliant idea!" piped up Jorge. "I can sing as you walk down the aisle!"

"Both of you STOP!" commanded Harry. "We just wanted to tell you the good news. Email me the dates, you're in London and we'll sort something out."

"Just like that?"

"Just like that!" Harry confirmed noticing the glow of happiness on Nikki's face.

"So we can come to the wedding?" they squeaked together.

"Without you there'd never be a wedding." Harry explained.

"This is going to be the best gig ever!" Jorge squealed enthusiastically.

"This is not a gig, this is a wedding. My wedding. Our wedding!"

There were non-committal grunts from the other end of the phone.

"You two alright, Vegas still agreeing with you?"

"You betcha, we love it. Thanks for calling us Harry. Congratulations!"

"Yeah, Congratulations both of you." Beto added. "Felicitaciones."

"Talk to you soon." Harry said.

"Can I help you choose a dress?" Jorge asked.

"No you cannot," Harry insisted. "And you'll keep your hands to yourself thank you!"

"We're 4000 miles away!" they laughed.

Nikki was laughing too much to even say goodbye.

"Well that went well," Harry admitted after they disconnected. "Shall I try my mother while we're on a roll?"

He took the phone from Nikki's hand, turned off the speaker mode and speed dialled his mother.

"Hi Mum, it's Harry."

"Oh, hello darling. I'm just on my way out. Are you alright?"

"Yes, I'm fine Mum, there was something I wanted to…"

"Have you found a house yet?" Anne interrupted. Nikki looked up, aware of the interruption but unaware of Anne's side of the conversation.

"Actually I have. St Cecilia Road, over near Kew."

"Don't know it."

"I'll send the details to your email."

"Thanks," Anne replied distractedly. "My taxi will be here at any minute. Why don't you come over at the weekend? You can show me the details. I'm sure there's something up with that computer."

"Ok, Mum, I'll look at it when I come over. Is it alright if Nikki comes too?"

"Why would Nikki want to come over and fix my computer? Oh, whatever darling, I think that's the taxi now. I'll talk to you soon."

"OK," Harry agreed defeatedly.

"Oh no, I was wrong, it's Stephen next door coming back from training. St Cecilia Road you say. I don't suppose you know what she was patron saint of?"

"No, Mum. It sounds like you do."

"She's patron saint of music."

"There's a surprise," Harry muttered sarcastically under his breath. "She has a lot to answer for. Mum, I wanted to…"

"Oh that's the taxi now. Bye darling, see you on Saturday."

"Bye Mum."

Nikki stared at Harry. "I'm not thinking that went as planned." She said.

"Not quite," Harry agreed. "I did find one thing out though. St Cecilia…"

"Yes?"

"She's patron saint of music."

"That's priceless!" Nikki laughed her throaty laugh and Harry swept her into his arms, and out of the kitchen. He'd had the determination to reach the top of the stairs yesterday. But today he wasn't so sure. There was still one of Leo's sofa's left…

The phone rang again. They let the answer phone pick up. Harry stopped kissing from an instant to listen to the message.

"Harry it's your mother. I'm sorry I was so short with you. That thing you wanted to tell me. I was just thinking; it seemed important to you. Was it good news? Very good news? I'll talk to you soon. Bye darlings."

* * *

**My Spanish idioms may not translate… Here's what I was hoping for…**

***No time like the present, make hay while the sun shines (although looks more like seize the day to me but same thing) and don't put off until tomorrow what you can do today.**

***Smart arse**

**Congratulations**

**Hope you're enjoying a bit of fluff for a change. You deserve it after all the pain. Let me know if you're smiling. It's easy to do, just a click.**


	55. Chapter 55 The Doorman?

**For KiwiSWfan, who was determined to get Mrs Finkelstein to the wedding.**

* * *

**Chapter Fifty-Five**

**Saturday 3****rd**** August**

**The doorman, his lover and a nonagenarian neighbour**

"It is true isn't it?" Anne asked excitedly as she opened the door to her son, that Saturday.

"Yes, it's true," he smiled, giving her a hug.

"Nikki, Congratulations! I'm so happy for you both," she kissed Nikki and hugged her too. "I'm so sorry I didn't listen when you called me the other night. I had no idea things were going so quickly. Harry didn't waste any time then…"

"Depends who you ask…" muttered Harry.

"Have you chosen a ring?"

"No, not yet." Nikki explained. "We might just stick to wedding rings; I'd be forever having to take off a ring that could tear the surgical gloves we use. It's probably safer not to bother."

"That's not very romantic," Anne said with a pout.

"Neither is hepatitis, MRSA, HIV, ebola …"

"Alright!" Anne interrupted. "I get the point. You're happy?" She looked Nikki straight in the eye, with the same intense stare that her son had. She remembered how much Anne had reminded her of Harry when he was away.

"I'm very happy," she replied.

"I brought the house details," Harry chipped in, aware he was being ignored. "Do you want me to check your computer?"

"Oh that can wait, Harry. Let's have lunch and you can tell me your plans."

"Before Christmas!" Anne spluttered when Harry mentioned the suggested time. "Are you crazy?"

"A couple of my friends from New York will be in London at the beginning of December. If we have it then, they'll be able to come." Harry explained.

"I didn't think you had that many good friends there?" Anne said. "A string of girls…"

"Thanks, Mum."

"I'm sure I told you about Jorge, we used to go out to pubs together, talk about the day…"

"Wasn't he your doorman?"

"That's the one."

Anne shook her head, "You always were a little peculiar. Have you met these friends?" Anne turned to Nikki.

"Oh yes!" Nikki said with a smile.

"And you want them at your wedding?" Anne asked.

"OUR wedding," interjected Harry.

"Yes I do!" Nikki replied with a laugh.

"Anyone else you want to ship in from New York?" Anne asked sarcastically.

Harry met Nikki's gaze across the lunch table and passed the bowl of salad to her.

"There can't be many people you both know, it's not as if Nikki was there for very long…"

"Mrs Finkelstein!" they both said together.

"The elderly neighbour with the annoying dog?" Anne exploded. "I get the feeling there's a lot to this story that the two of you haven't told me!"

"She'd never be able to come," Harry explained.

"She must be in her nineties at least," Nikki suggested.

"We'd have to offer to pay her fare," Harry began.

"But she wouldn't come all that way on her own, would she?"

"All the more reason for inviting her," Harry said. "She'll not be able to come but she will be overjoyed at the news!"

"Can you ring her now and ask?" his mother suggested.

Harry shook his head. "Not on a Saturday, she wouldn't answer the phone, she's Jewish."

Anne raised an eyebrow but kept her thoughts to herself for a while. Then added, "So on the list so far we have your doorman…"

"And Beto…" Nikki insisted.

"And Beto is?"

"Jorge's partner," Harry replied easily.

"Beto; it's not sounding like a girl's name."

"No, it's not." Nikki agreed.

"So on the list we have your old doorman, his gay lover and a nonagenarian neighbour." Anne clarified.

"Who won't be able to come," added Harry.

"I think you two, had better spend some time thinking about this," Anne laughed. "Am I invited?"

"Of course you are Mum!"

"Good, I'm looking forward to it and to meeting your friends Harry. Who are you going to invite Nikki?"

Nikki swallowed and for the first time in that whirlwind of a week, she actually thought through the details of a wedding. She would be expected to have a bridesmaid, someone to give her away. Her lip began to quiver. Although she'd never allowed herself to indulge in silly fantasies, it had always been there in the back of her mind all these years. That if this day ever did come, Leo would be the man she would chose to walk her down the aisle.

"How am I going to do this without Leo?" she asked, her fork clattering to her plate.

"Oh Nikki, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you. Is there someone else? An old family friend? Someone else at work? One of Harry's friends?" Anne suggested touching the younger woman's arm.

"You can walk in with me." Harry suggested. "We haven't even decided what kind of wedding to have."

"I can't walk in with you, and out with you. That would just be weird."

"Nikki, nothing about this wedding is going to be traditional. I can tell you that from the start. Look at your guest list to start with…" Anne retorted.

"Jorge might give me away?" Nikki suggested.

"I'm not sure. I think if you walked into church on Jorge's arm. He'd do everything in his power to make sure he would walk out with you on his arm too!"

"You really don't trust him!" Nikki laughed.

"Not with you, I don't." Harry laughed back.

"Jealousy suits you," she smiled thoughtfully. "You said we'd walk into church together. Do you really want a church wedding?"

Harry shrugged. "I guess I thought you would, I'm not fussy about the location. Maybe somewhere less traditional would fit our less than traditional wedding."

Nikki nodded. "I seem to only go to church for funerals." Anne started clearing the empty plates.

"We'll think of something."

"It's not as if planning a wedding in less than six months is impossible," scoffed Anne.

"It's not impossible when it's possible," they both giggled, they'd both answered at exactly the same time and with the same words. Anne looked from one to another. She didn't understand exactly what was going on. But she knew her son and she knew that for the first time in years that he was happy. Really happy. She smiled at the pair. She'd worried for months that her interference in their relationship had backfired, but seeing them both sat at her table, broad smiles on their faces more than made up for it.

"Congratulations, it is going to be the best day ever, whatever you choose to do." She said graciously. "Let me know if there's any way I can help."

"Thanks Mum."

"I'm looking forward to it already! Now Harry, you said you had those house details. Didn't you say it was near Kew. Kew Gardens are beautiful, that would be an interesting location…"


	56. Chapter 56 Tell Me On A Sunday

**Chapter Fifty-Six**

**Sunday 4****th**** August**

**Tell Me On A Sunday**

"Hello?"

"Hello."

"Who is this?"

"I don't know if you remember me, my name's Harry Cunningham. I was your neighbour up until a couple of months ago."

"Harry Cunningham, of course I know who you are!" Mrs Finkelstein laughed. "There are things I don't remember so well nowadays, but you've not been gone that long. The old place isn't the same without you. You and Jorge leaving at the same time have left a void. It's not often you find someone who has the time for an old lady and I had you and Jorge. It's really not the same now."

"How's the new neighbour."

"I don't see her much; I think she works shifts at the hospital. I've been away too."

"Somewhere nice?" Harry asked.

"Oh, all over. You haven't rung me to ask about my vacation so what is it you want?" She said brusquely.

"Nikki and I would like to invite you to our wedding," Harry explained. "I know you probably won't feel like flying over to England, and we would pay for your fare but we both feel that without you we might not have made it this far. We'd like you to come if you can. Nikki doesn't have any family and mine's not big, we wondered if you'd like to join us?"

"Ah Mazel Tov!" Mrs Finkelstein exclaimed. "I knew you two were made for each other. I'm glad you were able to work things out. That girl has seen great sadness in her life but still has the capacity to love. It is so rare to meet someone like that and I recognised it immediately that night we spent together."

"Thanks," said Harry.

"So when are you planning this wedding?"

"We think it will be in December. Jorge is doing some concerts in London in the run up to err the run up to …"

"Christmas?" Mrs Finkelstein suggested.

"Yes," Harry replied sheepishly.

"So Jorge has agreed to go!"

"Yes he has!"

"It would be nice to see him again. Such a charming young man, is his friend coming too?"

"Yes, Beto will be there too."

There was a long pause. Harry hadn't really expected the old lady to show more than mild interest in his news. It wasn't as if they had really spent much time together.

"Well it's very interesting you say it's December, because I'm due in London in December too."

"You're coming to London?"

"Yes, I have to do some interviews. I don't suppose you've heard of the station or the interviewer. I'm only going to be on the radio. I think they called in Radio 4, it didn't sound very important. I'm talking to someone called James Naughtie."

"You're going to be on the Today Programme?" Harry gasped.

"Yes, I think that's what my grandson said it was called. He was trying to organise some other things. Something else with a number, now what was it? The One Show, could that be it? Sounds like a lunch time show. Nothing important."

There was a long silence.

"Harry are you still there?" Mrs Finkelstein asked. "Has the line gone?"

"You are doing the One Show and the Today Programme?" He stuttered incredulously.

"And a few book signings…"

"In London, this December?"

"Yes, you seem to be making this more complicated than it is. I'm sure I would be able to pop into your wedding, my grandson has made the schedule quite open so I don't get too tired. It should be him doing all the interviews really, he wrote the book. You might have to invite him too."

Harry coughed and tried to fit everything Mrs Finkelstein had said, into some kind of order. But she started talking again.

"Did you meet my grandson? He used to come and stay with me sometimes. I can't remember if the two of you met."

"He used to sleep on the spare bed you lent me when Nikki came to visit!"

"That's the one, he always used to tease me that I was the one living in New York as all writer's should, and he was the one living in Boca Raton, which is full of retired people. He used to come up and visit me and to see his agent. He's got quite well known recently but not for this kind of book. I think that's why there's all this hoohah about this new one and we're flying half way round the world to promote it."

"This book he's written, is it about you?"

"Yes, didn't I say that? I am getting a little forgetful in my old age. It's about my experiences as a Holocaust survivor. All these years I've spent quietly campaigning for justice and peace and going about unobserved and now in the last years of my life I've been flying round the country giving interviews and telling strangers about my experiences, when for the rest of my life many of my closest friends didn't even know.

Finally Harry's brain began to fill in the dots. It had been something Nikki had said weeks ago in the pub. It was all beginning to make sense.

"Your grandson; he's not Ben Stein is he?" Harry asked realising as he did so he was holding his breath.

"His real name is Benjamin Yehudah Finkelstein, but they told him thriller writers had to have punchy short names that fitted in big letters across the front of the book, so he uses the first bit and the last bit as his pen name."

"Your grandson is Ben Stein?"

"I was sure I'd introduced the two of you…"

"You want him to come to the wedding with you?"

"I don't want to put you out Harry, will you have room for one more?"

"Mrs Finkelstein, we would be delighted for you and Ben to come, do you know what dates you're in London?"

"We arrive on the 4th; I'm doing the Today thing on the 6th."

"So you could fit us in at the weekend?"

"Or the one after. I like to keep Shabbos though."

"So nothing on Saturday?"

"No, will that be a problem?"

"A wedding on a Sunday!" exclaimed Harry a smile forming on his face. It would be perfect for their non-traditional ceremony. "About one o'clock suit you?" Harry asked; an even bigger smile on his face.

"Any time on Sunday will do, Harry. It's very kind of you to think of me. I'll give you my grandson's number it will be probably be best to talk directly to him. I'll call him now and let him know who you are. Have you got a pen?"

Harry dutifully wrote down the number. He couldn't wait to tell Nikki about this.

"Thanks so much Harry. And mazel tov again."

"Thanks, Mrs Finkelstein."

"Call me Gerda, after this book came out, everyone else does now."

"Thanks Gerda, I'll look forward to seeing you soon."

"Good bye Harry."

* * *

**Also with a bit of inspiration from the Gerda Weissmann Klein, she received the Presidential Medal of Freedom from President Obama in 2011 for her lifelong campaign for human rights. Her book published in 1957 'All But My Life,' is an autobiographical account of her experiences of the Holocaust.**

**Now 89, President Obama read a statement from Klein at the award ceremony: "I pray you never stand at any crossroads in your own lives, but if you do, if the darkness seems so total, if you think there is no way out, remember, never ever give up."**

**She certainly seems to be in Mrs Finkelstein's mould, I only found out about her as I researched a possible first name for Mrs F. Didn't think she could really turn up at the wedding without a first name!**

**Also as an observant Jew, Mrs F. would observe the Sabbath (Shabbos) from sundown on Friday to sundown on Saturday, hence no partying on a Saturday, or answering the phone from the previous chapter.**

**Tell me on a Sunday: Lloyd Webber and Black (it's a sad song but fear not, no more angst for you my lovelies)**


	57. Chapter 57 Bonheur De Vivre

**Chapter Fifty-Seven**

**Monday 2****nd**** September**

'**Bonheur de Vivre'**

"I can't believe it's really ours!"

"You will when you see your bank statement!" Harry laughed. "You don't expect me to carry you over the threshold do you?"

"I don't think so, you'd probably trip over one of those stone lions and we'll both end up in A&E!"

"I'm glad they left them,"

"The lions?"

"Yes,"

"I am too."

"I like the idea of Leo here on the doorstep watching our comings and goings."

"Do you think he'll mind?"

"No, it'll be just like the old days, except then he used to peer out at us from his office."

Harry smiled, he was discovering his new hobby of finding ways to make Nikki smile, it was just as much fun as singing with Jorge and Beto.

He opened the door and stood back to let Nikki walk into their new house. Their own house. She went straight through to look out into the garden as she had done the first time the funny old estate agent had fumbled through her collection of keys before opening the door.

"Harry look!" she called. Harry meanwhile was picking up the pile of adverts, free newspapers and letters that accumulated on the doormat.

"Don't tell me the grass is a foot tall, I've had enough trouble with the grass at Leo's old place."

"Come and look!"

He looked up then, saw her bouncing about at the window and felt his chest suddenly constrict. He hadn't thought it was possible to love her more than he already did, but each new day was a revelation, something new he found adorable about her. He shuffled the mail into a neater pile.

"Harry!" she squeaked.

He joined her at the window.

"Aren't they beautiful?" she asked pointing to the flowers along the back wall in the garden.

"The helianthus?" he queried. She turned and gave him a trademark under the eyebrows hard stare.

"You knew?"

"Of course I knew, it wasn't difficult. Helios is Greek for sun, I guessed the rest."

"You never told me!"

"I just assumed you knew. Your one might get a bit of a complex next to those giants though." Harry said indicating the row of large headed sunflowers along the back wall.

"And you said this wasn't the right house!" she insisted.

"No, I said 'I couldn't afford to buy this house,' I never said it wasn't the right house."

"It couldn't be more perfect." Nikki exclaimed.

"You do remember the orange bathroom suite."

"I do, and that's why I'm staying at Leo's until the builders are finished," she said smugly.

"Well wasn't it lucky your house sold the day it went on the market, so we can stay at Leo's. I told you to price it higher!"

"Harry! We needed a quick sale, and we got what we needed."

"You may be right," he said with a half-smile.

She gave a theatrical gasp. "Really?" she said sarcastically.

"Yes. You were right. You've always been right. If I'd have listened to you, I would never have left in the first place!"

"I'm glad you did," she said quietly.

Harry looked into her eyes; this was still a topic they steered clear of despite resolving so much of their complicated relationship. He asked her why with his eyes.

"We would never have got here if you'd have stayed Harry. We needed that time apart. We needed the space. You needed a kick up the backside which Jorge and Beto and Mrs Finkelstein all gave you. And I needed to realise what I had lost and to know what I really wanted. It's been a long road and it's been a painful one but I wouldn't change this, here, now, with you for anything."

"I love you," Harry replied.

"I love you too," she said reaching up on tiptoe to kiss him. "Very, very much."

"I wish it hadn't had to hurt so much,"

"Me too," she said ruefully.

"It just makes this, even more precious," Harry said.

"THIS?" she asked, her eyebrow raised theatrically.

"No, THIS!" he laughed gesturing at the house. "Let's go and see how they've left the annexe."

The place was clean and pristine, all except the big hole in one of the walls.

"Looks like they took the safe with them," Harry commented.

"Looks like we found a place to put Leo's Matisse!" Nikki smiled. It was odd, usually once the furniture was moved out of even the cleanest house it made it look tatty but the annexe was spotless. "You'll be able to start seeing clients soon. It won't take long to fix up."

"Dalton Pathology," Harry stated.

"Is that what you decided on?" Nikki asked.

Harry nodded. Leo and I agreed it ages back.

"It's a good name," Nikki agreed.

"You should have heard the others!" Harry laughed.

"Leo would be very proud,"

"What of the business; or of us?" he asked giving her a squeeze.

"Everything," she smiled but he could see her tears hovering behind the smile.

"It's going to be alright," he assured her, pulling her to him. A mixture of happiness and sadness; wasn't that what his fortune cookie had promised him the first night he returned. The sadness was still there but thankfully the scales had finally tipped.

"I'll go and get the sugar soap and buckets from the car, shall I?"

"Not yet," Nikki said snuggling into his chest. "Just stand here with me here, for a bit longer."

"Welcome home, Nikki."

"Welcome back, Harry."

* * *

**Bonheur de Vivre/The Joy of Life: Matisse. Leo's last painting in his office**


	58. Chapter 58 She's Absolutely Wonderful

**Chapter Fifty-Eight**

**Monday 2****nd**** September**

'**She's absolutely wonderful, and marvellous and beautiful,'**

Nikki grabbed the post when they left an hour or so later, dumping most of it in the recycling bin without even opening it. "How can we have letters from builders already offering their services? You haven't called any have you?"

"No, they just watch the house sales, and planning applications," Harry explained. "Hang on. That big white one, I want to see that."

Harry ripped open the envelope and a glossy brochure fell out. He couldn't stop the smile spreading across his face.

"What is it?" Nikki asked.

"It's perfect!" he smiled.

He turned the open brochure around to her.

"It's a greenhouse." Nikki commented.

"Not just any greenhouse…" He flipped a page and an elegant white glass house illuminated at night filled the page. "It's the Orangery at Kew."

"And?" Nikki said impatiently.

"They do weddings!" Harry smiled, flicking over another page to show the decorated tables.

"You mean; we could get married there?"

"I rang them a week or so back, apparently Sundays aren't busy, they have availability. I'd forgotten I'd told them to send the details here. Shall we go and have a look? The orangery looks a bit big for the size of our guest list but the Nash Conservatory is smaller; or the Princess of Wales Conservatory if you really want to be in amongst the plants." He tipped the brochure towards her again.

"Harry, it looks spectacular. Can we afford it?"

Harry shrugged and smiled. "The students arrive this week, and I've had some interest in the website, I've a meeting on Tuesday it could be my first pathology contract."

"That's not going to make you millions; didn't you say it was a homeless man?"

"Doesn't mean no one care's how he died." He paused for breath. "AND," Harry added eager to get back to the previous topic. He was looking at an extra insert in the brochure. "There's a Christmas special; an after dark walk through the grounds. So after the wedding we can walk through 'an illuminated trail through our enchanted winter landscape.' Can you imagine Jorge's face? What could be further from Vegas?"

"OK, you've won me over. We should at least go and look," she smiled, "We'll go and see it later shall we?" She moved the rest of the junk mail towards the recycling bin, flicking through one last time to make sure there was nothing else important.

"Oh, we've missed a parcel," Nikki said, flapping the red card.

"Was it for us?" Harry asked. "I'm not expecting anything else."

Nikki turned the card over, "No, it's not for us; it's for a Mr Burrows. That's not even the people before is it? Their name was Bhatnager."

"Can I see it?" Harry asked.

"I think it's for me," he said after reading the card. "It's not Mr Burrow; it's Mr Burro. I think it's from Beto and Jorge, does it say where we can pick it up from?" He handed the card back to Nikki.

"Why would they address it to Mr Burro?"

"They probably didn't, Beto probably just wrote Burro on it without thinking."

"Why does he call you Burro?"

"It's a long story." Harry insisted.

"I'm not in a hurry," Nikki retorted.

"It means donkey in Spanish. Beto used to think I was like a donkey."

"Did he?" Nikki asked salaciously and pulled a face to match.

"No, not like that!" Harry insisted. "I've not heard any complaints though," he added trying but failing to keep his cheeks from reddening.

"None from me!" Nikki replied innocently.

"Moaning…yes; complaints…no…"

"Alright, alright!" Nikki interrupted, covering his mouth with her hand. "That's enough, but why did Beto think you were a donkey?"

"Because he thought I was stubborn and stupid,"

"He's got a point," Nikki admitted.

"Anyway, the name stuck. He always called me Burro. I'm surprised you didn't notice. Is there a map to show where to go?"

"Yes, there is."

##

"What could Beto have sent that needed such an enormous box, it cost him $25 in postage!" Nikki exclaimed as they placed the box down on Leo's kitchen table. She leaned on a chair to get a better look.

"It must have been important," Harry said.

He opened the card.

'_Dear Burro,_

_I wanted to send you an ipod, but Jorge claimed you'd not know how to use it, so I got you some CD's instead, he said you could probably work those. _

_May your new house be filled with music, happiness, laughter and love, now and always._

_Love Beto and Jorge'_

"That's a lot of CD's," Nikki stated as she peered into the large box. She reached in and pulled one out. "Elv1s – all the number one singles; very thoughtful," Nikki smiled.

"Jorge's album!" Harry exclaimed happily.

"Am I sensing a theme?" Nikki asked, reaching into the box again. "Why has he sent you a CD of Colombian folk music?" She held the CD up to Harry, who nodded.

"Look at the picture," he suggested. It was then she noticed the donkey.

They pulled out a handful more, a mixture of classic, pop, blues, jazz, R&B.

"Good job, I got you to look after my stereo. Does it still work?" Harry asked.

"Of course it still works. It's still in the box you brought it over in before you went to New York. It must be here somewhere." Nikki pointed at the stack of boxes at Leo's. Harry had spent months clearing Leo's house and almost as soon as it was done, they had moved all of her furniture and stuff in. Or all that was salvageable.

It hadn't been pretty. She was glad she was moving.

"There must be something else in there?" Nikki insisted. Harry dived down deep into the box, showering the room with Styrofoam and pulled out one last odd shaped box.

"What on earth is that?" Nikki asked, looking at the asymmetric sides.

Harry opened the box and chuckled. "He sent me a ukulele!"

"Please no," Nikki laughed, "You have to be making that up. Please be making that up!"

Harry pulled out the small instrument and waved it at her.

Nikki covered her ears and shut her eyes. "It had better be in tune!"

"If I joined that rowing club I'd have to get up at 5:30 on the weekends…" Harry began.

"And…"

"If I joined a ukulele club, they'd meet in the evenings and I could stay in bed for longer on a Saturday morning…" He grinned.

"You might have to sing," she said cautiously.

Harry screwed up his face, "I'll have to work on my fingers first. Maybe I'll be OK."

He pinged each of the four strings in turn.

"That is definitely not in tune!"

"But you do have a tuner, I remember packing it, along with the music stand and a whole heap of other stuff you claim you can't part with."

He smiled happily. He'd spent years worrying that if they were ever to become lovers that their friendship would suffer, but it was the exact opposite. Their friendship grew stronger every day.

"I think the ukulele sounds like an excellent new hobby." Nikki smiled back. "Much MUCH better than rowing. Learning an instrument is one of the best mental training exercises there is. It'll keep the dementia away."

"I'm not sure that is as comforting as you think it is," he replied, sticking his tongue out at her as he did so.

Nikki looked back to the empty box and the stack of CD's, "They're good friends aren't they?"

"They're fantastic. I don't know what I would have done without them," Harry admitted.

"I think I feel jealous," Nikki laughed.

"You said it already; we wouldn't be here, now like this without them."

"Then I have a lot to thank them for."

"Even the ukulele?" Harry asked.

"Even the ukulele." Nikki admitted.

* * *

**Leaning on a Lampost (or in Nikki's case one of Leo's chairs): George Gay (George Formby or Ukulele Orchestra of Great Britain)**

**If you look up Kew Gardens website and click on venue and business hire, you'll get the visuals and the after dark Christmas spectacular.**

**No apologies for my ukulele fixation.**


	59. Chapter 59 Dreams That You Dare to Dream

**I'm sure you're all too young to remember Statler and Waldorf on the muppets, but that is who came to mind when I was working on this bit. They were two puppets that passed comments usually negative on proceedings from a box in the theatre.**

* * *

**Chapter Fifty-Nine**

**Sunday 15****th**** December 2013**

'**And the dreams that you dare to dream, really do come true.'**

"Are you sure Harry was teaching at New York University last year?" Audrey asked her friend Anne.

"Why?"

"Because he does seem to have come back with some odd ideas and even odder friends," Audrey went on.

"What do you mean?"

"Well it would be no shame admitting he'd been in one of those clinics you know, they're quite popular these days. It's the in thing."

"Are you suggesting that Harry wasn't working in America but was in rehab or something for a year and I just 'said' he was in New York?"

"Oh no, not rehab; just the funny farm. I thought nervous breakdowns were compulsory amongst the driven forty something's nowadays. He's certainly been through the mill recently."

"Audrey, Harry did not have a nervous breakdown, he taught at NYU for a year and then came back and started his own; and might I say successful business. Where do you think his best men came from?" She gestured to the beautiful table decoration and then to the table on her right where Harry and Nikki were sat in pride of place.

"Well looking at them Anne dear, he was just as likely to find them in the funny farm as he was in New York, did you see them? And it was rather peculiar that they all arrived together like that. Not traditional at all."

"But Harry isn't very traditional, and what was the poor girl supposed to do? She's got no family to speak of, I thought it was clever idea."

"Hmm," Audrey pronounced. "It did rather put me in mind of the Wizard of Oz; at least they didn't all skip along the path together."

Anne gave a small snigger and covered her mouth. "I hope you don't think my son is Tin Man, Scarecrow or Cowardly Lion,"

"Usually I'd go for Scarecrow, only he's always had the brains. No, he looks very handsome today. He does take after his father doesn't he?"

"In many ways," Anne agreed.

"Wasn't the other 'American' one Toto?" giggled Audrey, taking a swig of her wine.

"No, his name's Beto."

"Close enough!" Audrey shrugged.

Anne looked towards the circular table with her son, his new wife and their friends. They were all laughing.

"So which one was best man and which one was matron of honour?" Audrey asked.

"I don't think it matters, that's why they all walked down the aisle, arm in arm, all four of them."

"It was lucky the place had wide aisles! I've never known anyone get married in a greenhouse before."

"It's not a greenhouse, it's a Conservatory; the Nash Conservatory at Kew Gardens, it couldn't get more beautiful."

"Don't you think the music seemed a bit funereal?"

"It was just a cello piece. Neither of them have had an easy time recently."

"I just found it a bit mournful,"

"It suited them beautifully," Anne said pointedly. "I thought it all went very well. Anything else and you'd have been singing 'Somewhere over the Rainbow,' it was probably a good thing it was as it was!"

"Do you like her dress?" Audrey asked.

"Yes, it's stunning. Simple and elegant, I went with her when she tried some on. You would not believe how hideous some of the gowns were. I tried not to influence her, but I couldn't have chosen a better one myself. It suits her perfectly."

"No veil though,"

"Well it's not a church wedding and I don't think anyone is under any illusions about a virgin bride."

Both Audrey and Anne giggled. For all their bickering they were good friends and had been for years.

"She did well to find sunflowers for her bouquet, not really Christmassy colours."

"No, that was one thing she did insist on. I quite like them; it makes the place brighter than a lot of dark red and green."

"You don't think she's a bit on the skinny side?"

"She's looking better than she did a few months ago!" Anne added dryly.

Audrey rolled her eyes in surprise.

"She doesn't seem to be drinking much," she said staring at the table next to her and taking another sip from her own glass. "I like the wine," she added.

"I'm sure she wants to enjoy the day, it would be a real waste to create this beautiful wedding and then not remember it."

"No complaints about the food either," Audrey said.

"It's been exquisite."

"Yes, I agree, but you have to admit it's a strange time to have a wedding."

"Why does Saturday afternoon have the monopoly on weddings? Sunday at one seems reasonable."

"Well I've never been to a wedding before at one o'clock on a Sunday!"

"They had their reasons, one of the guest's couldn't make Saturday. Harry seemed particularly pleased that it was a Sunday. There's a lot he doesn't tell me; I am only his mother."

"But if they wanted a civil ceremony, why did they have that minister come in and do the prayers and a blessing? Wouldn't they have been better off in a church?"

"Like I said, they like to do things their own way and that priest owed Harry a favour."

"A favour?"

"Mm hmm," Anne nodded.

"Why would a priest owe Harry a favour?"

"He was one of Harry's first clients."

"The priest?"

"Yes. But the priest was acting on behalf of a homeless man. I'm not sure how Harry and Rev. Michael met, but his church runs a lunch club, food bank and shelter for the homeless. Maybe Harry donated something to them. Anyway one of the regular users of the lunch club died and his family thought it was suspicious."

"His family, I thought you said he was homeless?"

"He was, but by choice. He had contact with his family on occasions. One of his grandchildren needed a kidney; he'd offered to be a donor."

"What's this got to do with Harry and the priest?"

"The priest was working on behalf of the family and asked Harry to check if the death was suspicious or not. The police weren't interested with the death of a homeless man. Harry agreed to look into it, but as the priest didn't have much money so the two of them came to some agreement."

"And Harry found?"

"He'd been deliberately poisoned."

"Who would poison a homeless man?"

"Turns out, he was a banker that had had some kind of breakdown, chose to live on the streets, but had plenty of money. Lots of money in fact. Harry's investigations proved he'd been murdered so the police had to investigate. They found the safety deposit box where he stashed his money. The theory is the poisoner found out the man was rich and tried to get his hands on the money."

"But?"

"When the will was found in the safety box, the man had made a very generous donation to the church that had taken care of him through the years and the rest to his family."

"That's some story."

"Yes, the poor priest was mortified, making Harry work for peanuts and then profiting from the will so…"

"He owed Harry a favour."

"He did. A prayer and a blessing seemed the least he could do. I think he's recommended a few more clients to Harry. He works at a church near their new house."

"It doesn't sound very conventional."

"From what I can make out St Cecilia's is not a conventional church."

"That was fortunate for them. No wonder they fit in well in that neighbourhood.

"Harry's never been one to follow the crowd has he?" Anne smiled.

"No he always was a little quirky. His business must be flourishing for them to afford it all."

"They were left a house when a friend of theirs died, they managed to sell it and its contents for quite a tidy sum, I think the wedding would have been more modest otherwise."

"So what has made Harry's business so successful? Is there much call for freelance pathologists?"

"I think the work has been steady. He's got quite an internet following after one of his first clients gave his work a lot of exposure and the recommendations keep enough coming in.

"Oh look, I think the speeches are going to start," Audrey said. "Are they going to be good?" she raised an eyebrow at her friend.

"I can't think what you mean!" Anne replied with a shudder. She was suddenly grateful that his best man had only known her son for a short while.

* * *

**Over The Rainbow: Arlen and Harburg (Judy Garland)**


	60. Chapter 60 Absent Friends

**Chapter Sixty**

**Sunday 15****th**** December 2013**

**Absent Friends**

Jorge stood up, he was dressed in the same dark suit and bright tie that Harry was, but whereas Harry lent the suit an air of handsome respectability, the same suit on Jorge made him look dangerously sexy, his hair was shorter and it accentuated his features. He could have read the phone book and the wedding party would all have stared in rapt attention.

"I only got to know Harry recently, and those of you that know Harry, which I hope is most of you, if not you're at the wrong wedding and please join the group in the greenhouse…" Jorge began and the assembled guests gave a nervous laugh.

"Harry is easy to get to know, he smiles, he shakes your hand, he asks you about your day and many of you will say you know Harry Cunningham. His training as a doctor makes him friendly, personable. But I tell you today that you do not know the half of it. That is only the outside. You do not know Harry Cunningham. Harry has hidden depths and many secrets…."

Harry had visibly paled; he had begged Jorge and Beto to keep his singing private. He didn't know why he felt so shy about it; he just didn't want everyone remembering his wedding because he'd made a fool of himself, or had been made to look a fool. He looked up at his friend pleading with him silently not to embarrass him. Jorge was talking about knowing Harry, but how much did Harry really know about Jorge? He didn't even seem to have the Spanish accent any more. So much had changed in the six months since his return.

Jorge pointed towards Harry, "So the outside, is a bit dry and brittle, thin, brown and uninteresting. If you cut him, he can make your eyes water." Beto tugged on his friend's jacket and stood to whisper in Jorge's ear. Jorge looked down at his cards and to Beto and back to the party guests.

"I'm sorry I seem to have been describing an onion and not Harry," this time the laugh he got was genuine and unforced.

"But Harry does have many layers just as an onion does. His heart is soft but over the years, various tragedies in his own life and those he has investigated as part of his job have all wrapped another protective layer around the core. By the time Harry reached New York, all the softness had nearly been dessicated."

Beto stood, whispered again, and Jorge swapped his cue cards around again.

"Apologies, that's an Egyptian Mummy…" This time there was a guffaw from the group, and Jorge flashed them a smile.

"Beto and I somehow found a way to break through the bindings. We went on a road trip for his 40th birthday and that cemented our friendship. Having got past the boring clothes and the parts that made your eyes water, we found Harry the perfect complement to our group. A flavour we lacked but never knew until we met him. He created a harmony between us that would have been impossible without him." Jorge gave him a big grin.

"I would like to think in return he found in us something he too had lost sight of, an easy friendship. It had always been there, he had just lost sight of it.

Anne shuffled in her seat, the speech was going in an odd direction. Harry she noticed would have been pulling his hands through his hair, if Nikki were not holding tight to both of them. Harry himself was beginning to wonder whether admitting to singing with them, would sound less odd than a road trip with two gay men.

We didn't know it at the time, but all the times he disappeared that weekend, it was usually to speak to Nikki. We didn't understand the complications of their relationship and for a long time I wondered why they weren't together and then I realised that their long friendship had made them depend on each other so much.

She is the base of his onion, she is the one person in the world that holds all of Harry's separate leaves together, she is his anchor and she is the only person in the world that can do this. There was too much at stake to mess things up. And as we have all agreed that everyone in this room does know Harry, brilliant as he is, he does have a knack for messing things up."

Harry looked to his assembled friends, he saw a few nod their heads.

The two of them are inseparable but it took their separation for them to realise this. We were glad to be of help."

Beto stood again, but not with a joke this time, he wasn't letting Jorge do all the talking. His job as a lawyer often required him to give speeches. He too was in a matching suit; his made him look professional and successful.

"We are both so pleased that Bu..Harry and Nikki wanted us here today to share their wedding with them.

There is a saying in my country_; _

'_Y el amor. Nada es más difícil que el amor.'_

'_And love. There is nothing more difficult than love.'_

They have lived that saying, they would do well in Colombia, there is certainly enough trouble to keep Harry in business. There is nothing more difficult than love but my hope for the two of you is that from now on in, you have the opportunity to enjoy the easy side of love for a while.

Let's raise our glasses to Harry and Nikki; The bride and groom."

"The bride and groom," Jorge repeated.

"Nikki and Burro!" Beto replied holding his champagne high and swigging it back. 'The Bride and Groom,' toasted the guests .

Jorge and Beto leant over to kiss both Harry and Nikki before taking their places again and listened to the heartfelt applause of the party.

"I've been asked to say a few words," began an elderly lady with steel grey hair, a steady gaze and strong New York accent.

"Who's this one? I thought you said Nikki didn't have any family?" Audrey asked taking another swig of champagne and gestured to a waiter for a refill.

"Another of their friends from New York," Anne replied.

"What did they do charter a plane?"

"No, she was doing a book signing."

"Book signing?" Audrey pulled her glasses out of her bag, popped them on and stared at the lady talking. "She does look familiar… Where will I have seen her?"

Before Anne could answer, Audrey removed her glasses and stared back at her friend. "Wasn't she on the news the other night?"

"I think she was."

"That's Gerda Finkelstein!" Audrey continued with her mouth hanging open.

"She was Harry's neighbour."

"So he really was in New York?"

"Yes he really was in New York."

"So before I propose a toast, I'm going to bless the happy couple here; this is a Jewish prayer but here in this beautiful garden it seemed the most appropriate. Feel free to join in with an Amen.

_Sameach TeSamach Re'im Ahuvim, KeSamechacha Yetzircha BeGan Eden MiKedem._

_Baruch Ata HaShem, MeSame'ach Chatan VeKalah_

_Let the loving couple be very happy, just as You made Your creation happy in the garden of Eden, so long ago. You are blessed, Lord, who makes the bridegroom and the bride happy. _

_Baruch Ata HaShem Elokainu Melech HaOlam, Asher Barah Sasson VeSimcha,_

_Chatan VeKalah, Gila Rina, Ditza VeChedva, Ahava VeAchava, VeShalom VeRe'ut._

_You are blessed, Lord our G-d, the sovereign of the world, who created joy and celebration, bridegroom and bride, rejoicing, jubilation, pleasure and delight, love and brotherhood, peace and friendship."_

"Amen," agreed Jorge and Beto, who couldn't suppress his instinct to cross himself.

"And now I will tell you all what I told Nikki, one night a long time ago. 'Don't give up on faith and don't give up on love. Without those you really will have nothing.

"To never giving up," proposed Gerda Finkelstein smiling at Harry and Nikki.

"To never giving up!" the party replied.

"You have heard so much from so many people," Harry began. "So I will keep this short. Thank you all so much for coming. Thank you to the staff here at Kew who have just made the day so special. Thank you to Jorge and Beto, for getting me here, for Mrs Finkelstein for making it all the way from New York. You cannot imagine how special it is to have you with us.

Thank you to Nikki for agreeing to be my wife, I think we'll all agree she looks stunning." Harry smiled at his wife. She did look stunning, hair flowing freely across her bare shoulders, light make-up, classic dress, the tiniest clip decorated with a diamante butterfly in amongst the loose curls and an enigmatic smile. He couldn't be happier. "And thank you to my Mum, for always helping me to make the right choice, for letting me make my own decision in my own time."

Audrey gave Anne a hard stare.

"I think he's talking about his boyhood trauma at the pick and mix." Anne explained.

"He's what?" Audrey asked incredulously.

Harry continued. "There is one more toast that we can't do without here today and I'd like to introduce you to Mrs Cunningham to do the honours." He held his hand towards Nikki as she rose to her feet amidst the applause of their friends.

"There are many people who aren't here today. People we loved, people who steered us on our way. And we are both thankful for them and for the time that they were part of our lives. Please join with us and raise your glasses. To absent friends." Nikki pronounced.

"Absent friends." The company repeated, many taking the chance to wipe away a surreptitious tear.

"And now I believe; it's time for cake!" Harry said with a smile and led Nikki across to a simple but elegant cake with a beautiful sunflower decoration. The cake cut, the company were shepherded out to enjoy the winter wonderland walk, whilst the chairs were reset for the evening's entertainment.

* * *

**And to all absent friends out there, there are many in the FF world that come and go, people who have influenced my writing and encouraged me that are no longer with us. Heartfelt thanks to anyone and everyone who has taken the trouble to comment. So raise a proverbial toast with me to some of our FF friends gone but not forgotten: lilpad1, pinkswallowsun, Audrey1119, haveunotthought, immortalspudthief, and many many more. Thank you all.**

**Only two left so prepare yourselves. Also we've got the first dance to go… Guesses welcome.**


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